


We Are Soldiers

by AgtSpooky



Category: Strike Back
Genre: First Time, M/M, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:40:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 71,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25281757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: Section 20 is no more. All Michael and Damien have left is each other. Forced into sudden retirement, the two ex-special forces soldiers struggle to adapt to the civilian world. But all they’ve ever known is war. Will they be able to come to terms with their new life and their feelings for one another, or will they lose everything? (Takes place immediately following the series finale of Season 5: Legacy)
Relationships: Damien Scott/Michael Stonebridge
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always wondered how Michael and Damien ended up working for British Military Intelligence again after riding off into the sunset together and how it led them to Sao Paulo. This is my take on how all of that could’ve have happened…

For a dead man, Damien Scott was feeling pretty fucking good.

Sorry. Correction.

Damien _Barnes_ was feeling pretty fucking good. He was still trying to get used to the different last name thanks to the new identity paperwork his partner had brought with him from London after “Damien Scott” had been officially declared dead.

New name. New life. Another chance at a fresh start. And he was going to make the most of it.

With a smile and a wink at the young woman in front of him, Damien accepted the thick stack of bills from her and turned away from the Cashier station. His blue eyes took in the surroundings of the Thirsty Cowboy Saloon as he stuffed his winnings in the pocket of his khaki cargo pants.

Garish lights flashed over slot machines, enticing people to spend their hard earned cash for a chance to win a million more. The _tic-tic-tic_ of the little white ball as it bounced around the roulette wheel, trying to decide on red or black as the players urged it one way or the other. The excited shouts of others around the craps table, yelling at the dice to add up to the lucky number of the shooter. And then those seated around the blackjack and poker tables, cursing when the cards did not turn over in their favor. Let’s not forget the scantily clad women wandering among the gamblers, helping to ply them with alcohol to loosen their wallets even further.

Damien smiled. Ah, you had to love Las Vegas.

He walked closer to the main floor of the casino, spying said partner Michael Stonebridge and his son Finn standing together at a tall table, waiting for him to return, smiling and laughing.

The two most important people in Damien’s life.

Damien paused, watching them for a moment. It had been a fantastic four days, here in Vegas. He and Michael were teaching Finn how to gamble – Damien blackjack and poker, Michael craps and billiards on the side. And seeing as how he and his partner were now unemployed, their winnings provided the cash they were now in need of.

Since Finn was only sixteen and underage, they’d been sticking to some less than reputable places off the Strip, like the Cowboy, where they didn’t mind a teenager standing at the tables, watching the action. And drinking the occasional beer.

Michael’s laugh sounded out above the din and it was music to Damien’s ears. He still remembered the pit that had opened up in his stomach and the feeling of utter sadness when his partner had ridden away in the opposite direction from he and Finn. And then how his entire body had practically vibrated with excitement when he heard the rumble of Michael’s motorcycle pulling up next him.

Not long after they met, Damien had jokingly gotten Michael to admit that they completed one another. It had ceased to be a joke a long time ago. Without a doubt, Damien was not whole without his partner at his side.

And now his son was in his life as well. His son. Damien was still trying to wrap his mind around that. He had a lot to make up for, running away and missing out on Finn’s entire life. But now Damien had all the time in the world. His days with Section 20 were over. A sudden flash of Julia and Locke’s faces appeared in his mind, his chest clenching with loss, and he forced away their images before they could overtake him.

Michael looked up then, catching Damien’s eye and his partner’s expression softened as he smiled at Damien. Damien’s chest clenched again, not from loss this time, but with familiar, long-denied wanting. He took a breath, returned the smile and made his way over to Michael and Finn.

His partner shifted to the side as he stepped up to them, making room for him, and Damien rested a hand on Michael’s lower back briefly, feeling the heat of his body under his thin gray t-shirt as he moved to stand next to him. It may have been his imagination, but it seemed like Michael moved back just slightly into the touch. But it definitely wasn’t his imagination when his partner moved closer, their shoulders now touching, and Damien flicked his eyes to Michael, who was still smiling at him, and Damien’s groin tightened. With the way Michael had been these past few days, with the looks and touches, Damien could almost believe the feeling of longing was mutual.

And what if it was? Would it be worth acting on, as much as Damien wanted it, since the night they first met in Kuala Lumpur? With their lives now in limbo, uncertain of what came next? Damien had zero idea of what to do with the rest of his life now. But he had no doubt Michael had a plan for his. He always did have a better head on his shoulders than Damien. Even though Michael had turned around and joined he and Finn, Damien was under no illusion that Michael would be staying longer than another two days, when he put Finn on a plane back home and this short vacation came to an end. Michael’s home was in London. Not here in the States. There was no more Section 20. Nothing tying them together any longer. Damien needed to prepare himself to say goodbye. For good this time.

But until then he would make the most of the next few days with his partner.

“Well, gentlemen, we are flush with cash yet again,” Damien grinned.

“Brilliant job at the poker table, mate,” Michael congratulated him.

“And you weren’t half bad yourself at craps, Mikey.”

“You know, if they’d teach math as gambling I’d be getting better grades,” Finn joked.

“I’ll see if I can take that up with your school board,” Damien deadpanned as Michael chuckled.

“So,” Damien clapped his hands down on the table, looking between his partner and his son. “What’s next? You two Vegas newbies are still running the show.”

Michael tipped his head toward Finn. “Your call.”

Finn smiled. “Burgers at In-N-Out and then the arcade?” he asked hopefully.

Junk food and video games. Damien was going to have to get used to having a teenager. “Sounds like a plan. Mike?”

“What are we waiting for?” Michael easily agreed.

“Awesome!” Finn beamed. “Let’s go!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien had to admit, patting his full stomach as he strolled up to the arcade, that there was nothing better than American food. Burgers, fries, pizza, hot dogs, milkshakes… The list went on. He’d eaten some pretty interesting food in all his years spent criss-crossing the globe for the military and the CIA but nothing could compare to the comfort of good old American fare. Even Michael had succumbed, polishing off two burgers at In-N-Out along with an order of Animal fries. And a large soft drink.

Speaking of his partner, Damien followed behind him as Finn led the way through the large front doors—and came to a dead stop beside Michael as his entire being was overwhelmed with…teenage hormones.

Level 257 was apparently _the_ place to be for the under-21 crowd in Vegas. A multitude of boys in t-shirts and skinny jeans and girls in tank tops and tight shorts mingled together throughout the arcade in that awkward “I’m trying to flirt with you” way. Many were sipping on smoothies from the juice bar in the back of the arcade as they chatted with one another. Most of the boys were trying to impress the girls with their skills at various video games, skee-ball, dance games or the always popular “crane” games. Brightly colored tickets spewed from the machines, to be collected and turned in for a stuffed teddy bear for the boy’s latest crush.

Eyes wide, Damien turned his head from side to side, taking in this unfamiliar environment, feeling like a fish out of water. “Whoa…” he breathed.

Beside him, Michael chuckled and nudged Damien, tipping his head. Damien looked where his partner was indicating, to see Finn immediately saddle up to a group of four young girls, casually draping his arm across one of their shoulders, joining in on their conversation with ease.

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, I see,” Michael teased.

Damien nodded in approval, winking. “Good to know I passed along the important genes.”

“My God, it really is like watching a mini version of you in action,” Michael said in awe as the girls succumbed easily to Finn’s honest charm.

Damien barked out a laugh and clapped Michael on the back. “C’mon, let’s see what trouble we can get into.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose. “What on _earth_ could we possibly find to do in here?” he questioned, scanning the vast arcade.

Damien grinned as his gaze took in a particular video game. “That,” he pointed.

Michael’s hazel eyes took in the game in question and he gave Damien a sideways look. “You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

“What, not up for the challenge, Bravo One?” Damien teased.

“Oh, bring it on, mate. Bring it on!”

Damien laughed again and led his partner over to “Left 4 Dead”, a zombie/military cross-over first-person shooter game, complete with plastic rifles. Damien fed the appropriate money into the machine then bumped fists with Michael. “Let’s show these zombies who’s boss, Michael.”

Michael chuckled as he picked up the rifle. “Copy that, Bravo Two.”

As expected, the sights on the rifles were basically useless, not lining up in the least with any of their shots and the zombies heartily won the first game, much to Damien and Michael’s chagrin. But the two former soldiers were nothing if not adaptable, now aware of how to compensate for the plastic rifles’ lack of accuracy. It was time to kick some zombie ass.

Needless to say, round two was having an entirely different outcome as Damien and Michael worked together like the well-oiled machine they were.

“Contact, left!” Michael shouted.

“On your six, Mikey!” Damien yelled.

“Cover me!”

“Go, go, go!”

Zombies fell left and right under their combined onslaught of video game bullets, their points skyrocketing, tickets piling up at their feet, and suddenly Damien became aware of the crowd they were attracting.

“Holy crap, look at them go!”

“Check out their score!”

“They’re amazing!”

“Yeah, that’s my dad.”

Damien’s aim faltered for a brief second at the sound of Finn’s proud voice behind him.

“No way!” responded a young girl.

“Yep. He’s a special forces soldier. That’s his partner he’s playing with.”

Giggles from more than one girl, clearly not believing Finn. “Sure he is!”

“I’d tell you about his missions, but they’re top secret.”

Laughter again. “Oh, Finn!”

Damien spared a quick glance at Michael, who looked as amused as he was and gave Damien a wink before turning back to the ever-growing zombie attack. Which eventually won out by sheer numbers overwhelming Damien and Michael’s characters and GAME OVER flashed across the screen.

Applause broke out as they set their rifles down and high-fived each other, their score taking the top ranking by a wide, wide margin. They turned away from the game and Damien saw Finn standing with the same four girls from earlier.

“Your dad’s amazing!”

“I wish my dad was that cool!”

“His partner’s not half bad, either.”

The crowd started to disperse, the teenagers giving Michael and Damien nods and thumbs up as they wandered back into the arcade, leaving just Finn and the girls. The pride Damien had heard in his son’s voice was still there in his eyes, and it touched Damien deeply. He cleared his throat and gestured to the huge pile of tickets on the floor.

“Hey, Finn, why don’t you put these to good use?” he suggested.

Finn grinned widely as he scooped up the tickets. “Ladies. Who’d like a prize?”

The girls squealed and clapped their hands and Michael tried to suppress a laugh as they bounced on their toes in anticipation.

“Thanks, Damien,” Finn murmured sincerely before he walked off, the girls in tow.

Michael stepped up beside Damien, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I think our game score pales in comparison to the major points you continue to earn with him,” he said warmly.

Damien huffed out a confused laugh. “Yeah,” he said, still trying to figure out this fatherhood stuff. “Though you’re not half bad yourself, from what I hear,” he winked.

“Oh, screw you,” Michael retorted, his face turning pink.

Damien laughed and slugged Michael on his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go grab a smoothie and head outside. Finn’ll find us when he’s ready.”

Ten minutes later, strawberry banana smoothies in hand, they made their way out the back door of the arcade, which was closest to the juice bar.

“Oh, no way,” Damien chuckled at the sight before him – a go-kart track. He and Michael took a seat at one of the picnic tables and watched the cars zipping by as the racers laughed and egged each other on in friendly competition.

It was no secret that if it had an engine, Damien wanted to drive it as fast as possible. Car, motorcycle, boat, jet ski—it didn’t matter. And he knew the same could be said about his partner. He glanced over at Michael and sure enough…

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Damien laughed. “Hell yeah, buddy!” He held up his smoothie. “Let’s finish these and I’ll text Finn, get him in on this, too.”

Michael smiled. “Brilliant. Let’s do it.”

They watched two more races as they drank, as the sun began to set and the heat of the summer day began to abate. While Michael tossed their empty cups in the trash can, Damien texted Finn and challenged him to a go-kart race. Less than a minute later his son came bounding out of the arcade and over to the picnic table, grinning.

“I was hoping you two would want to do this!”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’ve ever seen your father drive,” Michael joked.

“Hey! At least I didn’t flip our car upside down and have us skidding along on the roof!” Damien countered playfully.

Finn’s eyes went wide. “You did that, Michael?”

Michael nodded. “Also jumped from a Jeep that was on fire that your dad was driving through a minefield onto a moving truck to recover a stolen nuclear warhead.”

Finn’s mouth dropped open as he looked back and forth between Michael and Damien. “Come on. You’re both shitting me. Right?”

Damien and Michael both laughed as Damien squeezed Finn’s shoulder, giving his son a wink. “Didn’t know how bad-ass your old man was, did you?”

“I’m…beginning to figure that out,” Finn answered, his words tinged with awe.

“Come on then, bad-ass. Time to put your money where your mouth is,” Michael taunted, slapping Damien on the back, walking toward the gate to the go-kart track.

Damien and Finn followed and Damien leaned in toward his son. “You won’t have to boost this one. The keys are already in it.”

Finn’s face turned red. “Damien!”

Damien chuckled. “I’m kidding! Besides, that was tame compared to my childhood. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.”

“Um, yeah, you can bet I will!”

There were normally five racers allowed on the course at a time, but Damien slipped the attendant twenty bucks so it would be just the three of them out there by themselves. The teenager had no qualms about accepting the bribe, so Michael took the first car, then Damien, then Finn. The attendant went through the rules about no bumping, always driving in one direction for the five laps, etc., which Damien barely heard as he revved his engine in juvenile anticipation of leaving his partner in the dust.

The light in front of the cars went from red to yellow to green.

The race was on.

Michael wasted no time, peeling out of the starting gate, tires squealing. Damien let out a yell and quickly followed suit. Like with the plastic rifles, these go-karts were hardly the kind of vehicles Damien was used to driving, maxing out between 35 and 40 mph with very loose steering.

But even so, it was fun as hell.

For once no one was shooting at him from another car or trying to run him off the road to his death. It was just the setting sun and the wind in his face as he raced along the track with his son and his partner. He couldn’t stop smiling.

Despite the go-karts limited capabilities, Damien and Michael made a real race out of it, pushing the karts as far and as fast as they could. The track was full of curves and short straight-aways and they remained neck and neck throughout the first four laps. And to Damien’s surprise, Finn was right on their tails.

Michael and Damien exchanged good-natured, shouted taunts and laughter during the entire race. Damien hadn’t seen his partner so carefree and happy in a long time. Since their aborted motorcycle vacation along the west coast. There was never much cause for laughter in Section 20.

The white flag flashed, signaling the last lap of the race. Michael was just barely ahead of Damien as they came around the last curve heading toward the finish line when Damien bumped his partner’s kart on purpose.

“Oi!” Michael shouted in mock-outrage as he glanced over at Damien.

Damien tipped his head backward toward Finn with a smile and a wink. Michael grinned back in understanding and as the two of them neared the finish line they suddenly separated, moving to either side of the track, hitting their brakes. This allowed Finn to shoot between them and take the checkered flag.

Finn’s laughter rang out and Damien pulled up next to Michael, bumping fists with him. “Thanks, buddy.”

Michael’s smile was soft. “Anytime.” He glanced to Finn then back at Damien. “I think you’ve got the hang of this fatherhood thing, mate.”

Damien looked to his son, who was smiling at him.

Yeah, maybe he did.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Finn stood behind his father as Damien came to a stop in front of their room at the Sleepy-Tyme Motel. Small and off the strip and affordable. That was fine with Finn. He knew Damien and Michael were now unemployed. He didn’t need the Venetian or the Bellagio. He just wanted to spend time with his biological father. Like tonight, at the go-kart track. Of course he’d let Finn win, which was cool, but he’d really enjoyed driving behind he and Michael, watching the two of them, seeing how well they worked together. It had gotten Finn thinking…

Damien glanced to his right, where Michael stood at his own motel room door, right next to theirs. They’d insisted on having connecting rooms, which Finn guessed was a hold-over from their military days. Old habits were hard to break.

“Night, Mike,” Damien said as he unlocked the door and opened it, but didn’t step through.

“Yeah. Night, Scott. Finn,” Michael replied, hesitating himself for a long second, holding Damien’s gaze, before finally moving inside his room.

Finn’s brows drew together slightly as he followed Damien into their room. That wasn’t the first lingering glance he’d seen pass between them. There was definitely something going on with the two of them.

“Hey, I’m gonna grab a quick shower,” Finn told Damien.

“Sounds good,” Damien replied over his shoulder as he opened up the glass doors to the balcony.

Finn undressed down to his underwear, grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and his sleep pants, and headed into the bathroom. Stepping under the shower’s spray a moment later, Finn let his thoughts wander back to his father and Michael.

With the way they acted around each other, there had to be more to their partnership than platonic friendship. Were they trying to hide their true relationship from him, for fear of how he might react? Unable to accept that his father was bi? Finn chuckled to himself as he washed. Well, it must run in the family. Damien may have only seen him flirt with girls, but the first person he ever kissed was a guy. And he liked it.

He needed to let Damien know it was okay for he and Michael to be themselves around him. He actually thought it was cool they were together. They made an amazing team. Finn smiled as he started rinsing off. Wow, he could actually end up with _three_ dads out of this!

Speaking of fathers, Finn spied Damien smoking out on the small balcony when he emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. He paused for a moment, studying him. There was no doubt that he loved Marcus, his step-father. He had raised Finn like he was his own from the time Finn was a baby. But Marcus was your typical 9-to-5 office guy. Damien…couldn’t be further from that.

Yeah, he may have been bragging a bit, showing off at the arcade, saying Damien was a special ops soldier—not like anyone believed him anyway—but he was amazingly proud of Damien. In awe of him, actually. Just the glimpse he’d gotten of the life his real father lived had been chilling. And Damien had been living in that kind of dangerous world for most of his adult life. As proud as Finn was, he was also glad it was over, that Section 20 was no more. That Damien’s life would no longer be threatened on a daily basis. He’d just found him. He didn’t want to lose him.

Finn stepped out on the balcony, resting his arms on the railing. “Hey.”

Damien blew out a stream of smoke. “Hey,” he smiled. Then he cleared his throat, his expression turning serious. “Finn… I just… I wanted to say again how sorry I am that I ran out on your mom. I was a coward. I should’ve been there for you.” He exhaled. “And then dragging you into everything that happened in Thailand and North Korea…”

Finn shook his head. “No, that’s on me. I’m the one that just took off and showed up unannounced. That was incredibly stupid of me.” He broke out into a smile. “But hey, despite getting kidnapped and shot it wasn’t all bad!”

Damien’s eyebrows rose. “How the hell was that _not_ bad?”

Finn’s expression softened. “Because I got to know exactly the kind of person you are. No walls, no bullshit. Just you. And you’re pretty awesome.”

Damien’s eyes widened. He huffed out a surprised breath. “After all that you should’ve wanted nothing to do with me.” He reached out and squeezed Finn’s shoulder. “So thank you, for sticking around. And I want you to know that I’m going to as well. This trip isn’t a one-time thing. I don’t want to lose contact with you after you go home.”

Finn smiled. “I want that, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

At 9:00 am the next morning, Michael leaned back against the booth at the pancake house, sipping his English Breakfast tea. He had to admit, he was getting used to sleeping in, and in an actual bed. Two things which rarely happened in Section 20. As well as the enormous selection of food laid out at the buffet he, Damien and Finn were currently partaking of. Michael watched in amusement as the younger Scott put away pancakes like there was no tomorrow. Next to him, Damien chuckled, observing his son as well.

Finn looked up, mid-chew. “What?” he mumbled innocently around his mouthful.

Damien shook his head with a grin. “Nothing, kid. Eat up.”

Finn grinned back and proceeded to attack the mountain of bacon on his plate as Damien set down his coffee cup and stabbed a fork into his meat-lovers omelette. A slow wave of sadness filtered through Michael as he watched them both. Today was their last day together. He and Damien would be taking Finn to the airport later tonight. Michael tried to push away the thought of all of them going their separate ways.

He vividly remembered the last time they separated, as he drove away in the opposite direction. He hadn’t made it five minutes down the highway when he was overcome with a sense of how utterly wrong it felt to not be by Damien’s side. But even as he turned around and broke the speed limit to catch up to his partner, he was suddenly filled with doubt. Would Damien _want_ him by his side? There was no more Section 20. Nothing holding them together. But one look at Damien’s face, at that smile and laugh as Michael pulled up beside him erased all of Michael’s doubt. He was right where he belonged.

Or so he thought. He’d been waiting for Damien to talk about the future these past five days, but he hadn’t once brought it up. Michael had thought he’d made his intentions obvious when he turned his motorcycle around. That he wanted to face whatever came next with Damien. Together. But his partner had remained quiet on the subject.

Michael sighed softly to himself as he drank his tea. He was going to have to start making plans then. To find somewhere to go. Back to London? To at least make preparations to have his house sold, yes. But to remain there? He just couldn’t picture it. Too many bad memories there for him to stay. So where should he settle to start the next chapter of his life?

No matter where he decided to end up, he needed to prepare himself to say goodbye to Damien and Finn. For real this time.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien settled into his chair at the table next to his son at Ball Breakers pool hall, sipping on his glass of soda, since it was a bit too early for a beer. At breakfast, when he’d asked Finn and Michael what they wanted to do on their last day in Vegas, Finn let Michael pick the first activity. And his partner said he’d like to earn some cash but Damien and Finn didn’t need to tag along. He could meet up with them later. But Damien wouldn’t miss seeing Michael in action for anything.

Sure enough… Damien snorted quietly in amusement as his partner proceeded to start to fleece yet another unsuspecting player. That snooker routine never got old.

Finn casually leaned in toward Damien. “So…how long has this thing between you and Michael been going on?”

Damien whipped his head around, eyes wide. “What?”

Finn leaned back. “You don’t have to pretend to be platonic friends around me. I’m a big boy, Damien.”

Damien shook his head. “There’s nothing going on between me and Michael. We’re just friends. Partners.”

Finn stared at him for a long moment, studying him. Then he blinked. “Wow. You’re serious, aren’t you? Damn. Well you fooled me!”

Damien’s reply was hesitant. “Why did you think there was something more going on between us?”

“Really? You’d have to be blind not to see how close you two are, the way you look at one another.”

Damien’s forehead creased. “Like…how?” he asked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Like you wanna be naked with him.”

Damien choked on his soda. “Finn! Christ!”

Finn spread his arms wide. “Well it’s true! You’re obviously attracted to him.” He tipped his head. “What’s stopping you?”

Damien blew out a long breath. His kid was far too observant by half. “Well, for one, I’ve never seen Michael show any interest in men. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had, and if he doesn’t feel the same way it’ll change everything between us. He’ll never be comfortable around me. I just…I don’t want to fuck up what we’ve got.” He shrugged, trying for nonchalant, but it came off stilted instead. “It’s just better if we go our separate ways tomorrow. A long-distance friendship is better than nothing.” His gaze left Finn and drifted toward Michael. “And besides, I have no fucking clue what I’m going to do with my life and I’m not going to drag him down with me. He deserves better. And his life is on another continent anyway.”

He felt the weight of Finn’s stare and turned back to his son.

“Don’t forget, he turned around and came after you.” Finn paused, his voice soft but serious. “I’d say that means something.”

Finn held his gaze for several beats before turning to watch Michael, leaving Damien to contemplate the possible truth in Finn’s words. And what it might mean if his son was right.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Pockets flush with cash from a few more naïve Yanks thinking the Englishman was going to be an easy mark at billiards, Michael stepped out of Ball Breakers into the Vegas sunshine, slipping his sunglasses on with a smile.

“Damn, it’s hot out!” Finn proclaimed as he came to a stop on the sidewalk between Michael and Damien. Then his face lit up. “Let’s go swimming!”

“And just where do you propose we do that?” Damien asked, settling his own sunglasses in place. “Are you forgetting that the luxurious Sleepy-Tyme motel doesn’t have a pool?”

Finn gave Michael and Damien a look. “Are you telling me that you guys can’t get us into one of the hotel pools on the strip?”

Michael cocked his head. Finn did have a point. If two special ops soldiers couldn’t buy their way, sneak their way or otherwise break or finagle their way into a pool…well…they deserved to be retired. He glanced at Damien.

“I’m thinking he’s just thrown down a challenge, mate.”

“Indeed he has, Mikey. Okay, kid. Where do you want to go swimming?”

Finn grinned broadly. “Caesar’s Palace. They have _seven_ pools.”

“My lucky number,” Damien smirked, then looked at Michael. “Ready for a mission, Bravo One?”

Michael chuckled. “Copy that, Bravo Two.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

First stop was one of the many stores inside Caesar’s to purchase swim suits for all of them. Damien tried unsuccessfully to cajole Michael into buying a tiny red Speedo, much to Finn’s amusement. Instead, they all left with brightly colored, classic men’s swim trunks, along with flip-flops, their regular clothes and shoes in shopping bags.

Second task was to procure a room key that would allow them access to all of the pools. Michael and Damien challenged one another to see who could nick a card the fastest. In the end, Michael was no match for Damien’s innate charm, his partner lifting a key from an unsuspecting young woman too dazzled by Damien’s smooth talk to notice his hand dipping into her bag.

Pilfered key in hand, Damien winked at Michael in victory and led the way outside. Finn immediately steered them toward the large, round Temple pool. While Finn and Damien claimed three deck chairs, Michael collected towels for all of them.

The pool area was moderately crowded with men and women of all ages, a few children and several teenagers. Waiters and waitresses moved about the area, taking food and drink orders while lifeguards carefully watched over the swimmers.

Michael tossed the towels down on the chairs, kicked off his flip-flops and joined Finn and Damien in the pool. The younger Scott headed toward a group of teenagers congregating off to the left as the older one leaned back against the side, chest-deep in the pool, arms spread out along the edge, face tipped up into the sun.

Michael sighed as the cool water washed over his overheated skin. He dipped completely below the surface before bobbing back up and pushing off the side, heading for the opposite end with long strokes. He couldn’t remember the last time he went swimming just for fun instead of being submerged in the foul water of some river in some foreign country.

He completed three laps before coming to a stop next to his partner at the side of the pool. Not one to have ever been interested in exercise or working out like Michael with his boxing and running, Damien hadn’t moved, enjoying a cigarette and casually chatting with the gorgeous women nearest him. Michael felt a twinge in his chest that then disappeared as Damien turned his attention away from the women and to Michael instead.

“Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies,” Damien said smoothly then nodded at Michael. “Nice form there, Mikey,” he grinned.

Michael glanced at the women, then back to Damien. “Could say the same for you, mate.”

Damien shrugged. “Just passing the time. Waiting for you to finish your Michael Phelps routine,” he smirked.

“Cute,” Michael replied, then looked around the pool area. “Where’s Finn?”

Damien stubbed out the remainder of his cigarette and pushed himself up and out of the pool. “Grabbing us some menus. I’m starving, c’mon.”

Michael levered himself up and out of the water as well and followed his partner back to their deck chairs, just as Finn arrived, menus in hand and waitress in tow. The three of them made their lunch and drink selections then settled down onto the chairs to soak up the sun. As Finn walked past him to his chair, Michael noticed the two small scars on the young man’s torso, evidence of the entrance and exit wounds the bullet had left behind in North Korea. Evidence of how close Damien had come to losing his son so soon after he’d found him.

Michael’s gaze drifted over his partner’s body next, his eyes taking in the myriad of tattoos that had always intrigued him and then to the scar on his stomach. Evidence of yet another bullet during their last mission. The one that had nearly taken Damien from him in Switzerland. He could still see his hands pressed over Damien’s, stained red with his partner’s blood…his near lifeless body floating in the water…

“Mike?”

Michael blinked at the sound of Damien’s low voice, pulling him out of the memory.

“You okay, buddy?”

Michael pulled in a slow breath, grateful to see Damien alive and well next to him, though looking at him with a sliver of concern. Michael gave him a small smile. “All good, mate.”

Damien nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced and Michael turned his attention to his partner’s son. “Oi, Finn. Enjoying yourself?”

Finn grinned, clasping his hands behind his head, stretching out on the chair. “Most _definitely_.”

Their lunch arrived just a few minutes later and they all tucked into their food, Finn polishing off his massive roast beef sandwich and fries before Michael and Damien were halfway through their own meals.

Michael nudged Damien and the two of them watched in amusement as Finn sipped on his non-alcoholic strawberry daiquiri while simultaneously flirting with one young lady after another. Who all reciprocated. He eyeballed one in particular and just as Michael thought he was going to stand up and walk over to her, a boy about a year older than Finn strolled along, pausing for a second as he walked past Finn’s chair.

“Hey,” the young man said softly, his shoulder length blond hair fluttering with the breeze.

“Hey,” Finn replied with grin, looking the teenager up and down.

The young man took a few more steps away from Finn’s chair before looking back at him over his shoulder with a shy smile.

Finn set down his empty drink cup and stood, flicking a glance at Damien. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Michael barely held in his mirth as Damien’s eyebrows shot up.

“What?” Finn asked with a casual shrug. “Why limit yourself?” Then with a quick wink and flash of a grin he jogged over to the young man and walked off with him.

Michael could no longer contain himself and threw his head back with an uproarious laugh. “He is _definitely_ your son, mate!”

Damien nodded with pride. “Yep, I see a lot of me in him when I was that age.”

Michael let out with another laugh. “Oh good lord!”

Damien cocked his head. “What?” he asked with fake indignation.

Michael shook his head, smiling. “No, he’s a good kid, Damien. And you’re good with him.” He paused. “You’ve always seemed to be able to relate to kids. Like with Esther.”

Damien shrugged. “Some would say it’s because I’m not that far removed myself.”

Michael chuckled. “Well, there is that.”

Damien grinned in reply, then turned serious. “Mike… I’m sorry if any of this…with Finn…makes you uncomfortable.”

Michael drew his brows together in confusion. “Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Damien glanced away, paused, looked back. “Because of Kerry…and the baby. I know you wanted to be a father. And then I practically have a kid fall into my lap.”

Michael abruptly turned his head away as memories flooded through him. Yes, he’d wanted to be a father. But that was before he knew that it would come with conditions and ultimatums. He swallowed hard and looked back at his partner. “Maybe there’s still time for that for me.”

Damien nodded slowly, his blue eyes holding Michael’s gaze. “Yeah…maybe there is.”

The moment stretched out for several heartbeats before Damien cleared his throat. “You know, we don’t have to be attached at the hip, Mike. Feel free to go off and you know…” he gestured at the myriad of scantily-clad women all around them.

Michael tried to hold in his frown. “Damien, I’m a big boy. If you’re the one who’d rather be off doing…whatever, go on. I can amuse myself,” he told his partner with a smile that he knew didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No!” Damien replied quickly. “I’m good…you know…hanging with you.”

Michael brightened. “Well, okay then. Shall we see what kind of trouble we can get up to?”

“Ha! Thought you’d never ask, buddy!” Damien leaned closer, mischief now in his eyes. “Remember. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

Michael groaned playfully. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

Damien slapped his palms down on his thighs then stood. “Yep, probably! No. Make that most certainly.”

Michael rolled his eyes and stood as Damien continued.

His partner hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Let me find Finn and tell him we’re leaving.”

“Copy that. I’ll take our towels back.”

They walked off in opposite directions and met back up a few minutes later at their chairs. Damien’s expression was perplexed.

“I was informed by my son that he does not need a babysitter, he’s going with Tyler there to an under-21 party at Circus Circus and that he’ll meet us for dinner. Maybe. Depending on how much fun he’s having. Without us. I thought _I_ was supposed to be making the rules!”

Michael knew he shouldn’t laugh, but he couldn’t help it. “Welcome to parenthood, mate! Though to be fair, you did get thrown into the deep end.” He clasped Damien’s shoulder. “But don’t forget, this is the kid who flew all the way to Bangkok by himself. He’ll be just fine in Vegas for a few hours.” He gave his partner an amused sideways look. “And don’t tell me you didn’t talk to your parents exactly like that when you were his age.”

Damien’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Sighed in defeat.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Michael grinned. “Come on, Dad. Time for the adults to go have some fun, too.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Half an hour later, Michael was regretting his words as Damien came to a stop in front of a business just off the strip, a sly grin on his face. Michael looked at the sign above the door – NuWu. The name told him nothing and it took him a few seconds of studying the storefront to figure out what the business was. When he did, his eyes widened.

He held up his hands. “No. No, no…”

Damien gave a loud laugh. “Yes, Mikey.”

“A _marijuana_ store? Are you out of your mind, mate?”

“Not yet, but I hope to be in about ten minutes,” Damien quipped.

Michael rolled his eyes. “We cannot—“

Damien cut him off, placing both of his hands on Michael’s shoulders. “Yes, we _can_. We’re off-duty, Mike. Permanently. Our lives are our own again and we can do whatever the fuck we want. And if that includes chilling out and indulging in an adult recreational high, so be it.” He held up a finger. “And before you say anything, yes, it’s perfectly legal to smoke in their lounge.”

Michael pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly, Damien’s hopeful, expectant gaze on him. He had to admit that Damien made a good point. They were answerable to no one any longer. And how could he disappoint his partner? Especially when this was their last day together…

“Fine,” he sighed.

“Ha!” Damien hooted, clapping his hands together. He turned toward the door only to stop and turn back around to Michael. “You _have_ smoked before, right?”

Michael shifted on his feet. “Well…once. During basic training for SBS.”

Damien chuckled. “You are _such_ a Boy Scout.” He grasped the door handle. “Let me introduce you to the finer points of smoking weed, Mikey.”

“An aficionado, are we?” Michael asked as he followed Damien inside.

“Let’s just say my high school years were very informative,” Damien replied over his shoulder.

“Hmm…I’m sure they were,” Michael said, then blinked at his surroundings.

The shop was incredibly large, absolutely immaculate and very busy. It looked more like a high-end department store than a cannabis market. And the selection boggled Michael’s mind. There had to be nearly two hundred different varieties of marijuana available. Damien led him over to the “cannabis bar” inside their “tasting room”. Deferring to his partner’s expertise, Michael let him choose the flavor they’d be trying.

The bartender got them all set up and Damien led Michael further inside the tasting room. There were several areas of couches and chairs grouped together, many of which were in use by people of all genders and ages, chatting, laughing and smoking.

Damien found a spot in the corner with a plush, black leather couch, right next to the tall windows. He set the tray the bartender had given him down on the low table and took a seat on the comfortable couch. Michael sat down beside him and watched as Damien prepared the joints, his fingers expertly portioning out the right amount and rolling them up.

“So, what are we indulging in?” Michael asked as Damien handed him one.

“Purple haze,” Damien grinned as he flicked on his lighter.

An appropriate name, Michael discovered just a few minutes later as everything did get hazy. His first inhale was a disaster, prompting a coughing fit that had Damien in stitches. Determined to prove that he was _not_ a Boy Scout, Michael set himself to the task at hand and was soon drifting along in that purple haze, more mellow and happy than he could ever remember.

Next to him, Damien was just as relaxed, laughing and rambling on about…something that Michael’s mellow mind couldn’t quite concentrate on. What he _did_ know was that he wanted more of this. More time with Damien.

Thoughts well-hidden and locked away rose to the surface, released by Michael’s altered state. Should _he_ finally say something about sticking together after Vegas? Should he confess what he wanted? To _be_ with Damien? To be partners in every sense of the word? But what if Damien turned him down because he didn’t feel that way toward him? It would never be the same between them. He’d ruin the strongest friendship he’d ever had.

Then what about staying together just as they were? Friends. Could he bury his feelings and then watch as Damien warmed someone else’s bed? Many someone’s? Maybe finally finding someone he wanted to marry? The thought turned Michael’s stomach. No. He couldn’t do it.

He brought the joint up, inhaling deeply, then tried to exhale his thoughts away, forcing a laugh at whatever Damien was going on about.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Predictably, Damien got the munchies after lighting up. But NuWu obviously knew their customers well, as they had an extensive selection of junk food for purchase. Damien snagged two bags of Doritos and threw one at his partner, who was still looking at bit…hazy, as they walked back outside.

Damien hid a smile as he crunched on his chips. He was proud of Michael for letting go of his typical British stoicism and relaxing for a bit. He was always a much more the by-the-book soldier than Damien ever was. But that was in the past and Michael needed to embrace a future where _he_ made the decisions. Damien shot a sideways glance at his partner as they walked down the sidewalk. Michael was popping Doritos in his mouth, his hazel eyes still a bit dilated. Damien couldn’t help his amusement at Michael’s first puff on the joint. But never one to back down from a challenge, he quickly got the hang of it. Seeing his partner stoned was priceless. That was a memory he would hang onto, for sure. Damien couldn’t really remember what they talked about, just that it felt good to get out of his head for a bit and laugh with his partner. Though he did remember Michael got a little subdued shortly before they finished smoking.

He bumped Michael’s arm. “Doing okay, buddy?”

Michael blinked. “Hmm…yeah. That was…enlightening.”

Damien chuckled. Yeah, Michael high was fucking awesome. He tossed his empty bag in a trash can at the next corner. “I’m gonna need a real meal. What do you say to doing a little gambling at the Stratosphere and then having dinner there with Finn?”

Michael’s empty bag joined Damien’s. “Yeah, mate, sounds good.”

Damien pulled out his phone as they continued walking, the heat of the day starting to dissipate as evening drew closer. He texted Finn the plan and got a response a few minutes later.

“Okay, he’ll meet us there in an hour and a half.”

Michael nodded slowly. “I’m thinking…we should just become professional gamblers.”

Damien burst out with a laugh and slapped him on the back. Oh yeah, Michael high was _priceless_.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Though an hour later, Damien was thinking that maybe Michael was onto something. Damien had cleaned up at poker, winning hand after hand. It brought back memories of the endless games played with his Delta team. Quinn’s face flashed in his head, playfully demanding to know how many ace’s Damien had up his sleeve.

Finn arrived just as Damien left the Cashier station and the three of them took the elevator up to the Top of the World restaurant, Finn telling them about the fun he had with Tyler at the party at Circus Circus. Damien was surprised Finn didn’t bring Tyler with, but was glad he hadn’t, so he could spend more time with his son. In only a few hours he’d be putting him on a plane.

They were able to get a seat near the panoramic windows overlooking the length of the strip as the sun started to go down. Conversation flowed easily between them as they ate their meals and Damien was struck with this sense of…family, for the first time. His own family had fallen apart a very long time ago. But with Finn and Michael, he’d found one again. Just in time for them to go their separate ways.

After dinner, they all went outside onto the observation deck, wandering off in separate directions as the neon on the strip began to light up the growing dusk. Damien passed Finn on his circuit, who was taking pictures with his phone. His son gave him a wide smile and Damien gave his shoulder a squeeze as he continued his trip around the deck.

He spied Michael standing against the railing, the sunset casting him in warm shades of red, orange and pink. He started to approach but then stopped, the two men standing near his partner catching his attention. They had their arms wrapped around one another as they looked out over the skyline, smiling at each other, then leaning in to kiss.

Damien watched them with a wistful expression. He’d never felt so adrift. He’d avoided truly thinking about a plan, concentrating only on spending time with Finn. And Michael. But he couldn’t avoid it any longer. He was going to have to say goodbye to both of them very soon and go his own way. Finn he would see again. But Michael? Probably not. He sighed quietly to himself, watching the couple kiss for a long moment, trying not to think about what might have been.

When Damien finally pulled his gaze away and back to his partner, he found Michael watching the couple, too. As if sensing he was being observed, Michael slowly turned away from the couple, directly toward Damien.

The stark look of yearning on Michael’s face caught Damien completely off-guard, rooting him to the spot, his breath catching in his chest. The moment hung in the warm summer night, their eyes steady on one another for the span of several heartbeats, broken suddenly by the appearance of Finn at Damien’s side.

“Ice cream!” the teen announced loudly, clapping Damien on his back, causing him to flinch and turn his head sharply away from his partner and to his son.

Damien swallowed and cleared his throat. “What?”

“Ice cream,” Finn repeated. “Let’s go get some before you take me to the airport.”

“Umm…Yeah, sure,” Damien replied distractedly as Michael walked up to them.

He flicked a glance at his partner, noticing Michael’s expression was now carefully neutral.

“Did someone say ice cream?” Michael grinned at Finn. “Brilliant idea.” He turned to Damien. “Shall we?”

Damien nodded slowly, searching Michael’s face, trying to make sense of what he’d seen in those hazel eyes just moments ago. But all he was left with was confusion. And wondering if he’d imagined it all.


	3. Chapter 3

Michael took a seat next to Finn at the picnic table outside the Dairy Mart as Damien placed their orders at the walk-up window. He took a long breath, needing the separation from his partner for a moment. Catching Damien also watching the couple kissing on the observation deck and the look on his face when his gaze met Michael’s…as if the same thought was tumbling through his head—longing for what might have been.

Michael shook his head, trying to dislodge the pointless thought, and turned his attention to Finn. There was something he’d been wanting to say to the young man.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Thank you for giving your dad a chance. After everything that happened in North Korea, you’d have been justified in telling him you never wanted to see him again.”

Finn nodded thoughtfully. “Even though I wouldn’t have chosen getting kidnapped and shot as a way to get to know him, I wouldn’t change it. I learned more about him that way than sitting awkwardly across from him at some coffee shop trying to make small talk.”

“You know, a while back Damien opened up to me, told me how much he regretted running out on your mom before you were even born. Said it wasn’t his proudest moment.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “What prompted him to tell you?”

“We were working an op that involved a young girl, Esther. About your age,” Michael said. “She and Damien made a connection. It got him thinking about you. About never knowing you. And wanting to before it was too late.”

“Yeah, with the lives you two led…” Finn trailed off for a moment. “I only got a glimpse, but I could tell you two make a great team.”

Michael felt a curl of warmth in his chest. “I was poisoned by a neurotoxin once. Came this close to death and he refused to give up on me. He saved my life. He also pulled me out of a dark hole I’d fallen into once.” He took a breath. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner. A better friend.”

Finn cocked his head, curiosity in his expression. “Is that all he is? A friend? You can tell me if it’s not. If it’s more. Because I think it’s cool. If you guys are, you know…together.”

The warmth in Michael’s chest was replaced with a sudden tightening. He shook his head. “No. It’s not like that between us.”

Finn’s brow furrowed. “Why? Anyone can see that you’re attracted to each other.”

Michael blinked at the teen’s statement, and the absolute certainty in it. And found he couldn’t outright deny it. He glanced over to Damien for a long moment, gathering his thoughts, then turned back to Finn, speaking his thoughts for the first time out loud. “In all the time I’ve known your dad, I’ve only seen him serious about one person, for a short period of time.”

“Julia,” Finn said, sadness in his voice. “I wish I’d gotten the chance to meet her.”

A flash of Julia’s body lying on the dirt road stabbed through Michael. “She was an amazing woman. Smart. Strong. Kind. And losing her hurt Damien deeply. It took a lot for him to commit to one person.” He paused before continuing to open up to Finn, the words continuing to flow out of him. “I don’t think he’d take a chance on another long-term relationship after the pain that one caused him. I think he’ll go back to hopping from bed to bed.” Michael gave a disheartened shrug. “I’m not like that. I couldn’t do just one night with him. I’d need more than I think he could give me,” he finished quietly, honestly, at the same time wondering if he’d gotten more personal than Finn was expecting.

But there was understanding in Finn’s expression that went well beyond his sixteen years. “I think you might be surprised,” he told Michael seriously. “You didn’t see the look on his face when you rode off in the opposite direction from us. How…lost he looked.” He leaned in, his gaze steady. “The two of you are good together. Don’t give up on him.”

Michael blinked at Finn’s unexpected words, at his tone that suggested he was hinting heavily at something, and that Michael needed to read between the lines. And what made him think that Finn had already had this same kind of conversation with Damien? But before he could ask, Damien himself appeared, carefully balancing three sundaes on a tray, and Michael had to swallow down his questions.

“You two were looking pretty serious over here,” Damien said as he set down the tray. “What’s up?”

Michael flicked a glance at Finn, who smiled up at his father. “Michael was just telling me that you have horrible decision-making skills and that I shouldn’t listen to anything you say,” he smoothly lied.

“Oh, _really_?” Damien grinned, sitting down and picking up a spoon. “Well let me tell you about some of the decisions _he’s_ made…”

Michael pulled up a smile as Damien launched into a story, trying to concentrate on what his partner was saying while Finn’s words echoed in his head.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A quick stop at the motel after they left the Dairy Mart to pick up Finn’s bag and they were at the airport a short time later. They all dismounted from the two motorcycles, and Damien found it hard to say goodbye to his son.

“Once you get settled…wherever, let me know,” Finn said to him. “I’d like to spend some more time with you…Dad.”

A flood of warmth surged through Damien at that last word. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, so would I.”

Finn turned to Michael, holding out his hand, which Michael grasped warmly. “You, too, Michael. I hope I get to see you again.”

“Same, Finn. You take care of yourself,” Michael answered.

Finn stepped closer to Damien and gave him a firm, one-armed hug. His voice was a whisper against Damien’s ear.

“Don’t let him go.”

Damien’s eyes widened as his son moved back, giving both he and Michael a pointed look before turning to go, throwing a smile and a wave over his shoulder before he disappeared inside the airport.

Damien stood still for a long moment, staring after his son’s retreating form, thrown by his heartfelt request. And wishing it was as easy as Finn thought it was.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien led them through the night, away from the airport, the rumble of Michael’s motorcycle next to his. And when Damien drove past the motel without stopping, Michael never uttered a word. He simply followed.

Damien drove out into the desert, off the main road until it was nothing but the two of them and cactus and tumbleweeds. He came to a stop, turned off his bike and dismounted. Beside him, Michael did the same, still following Damien’s lead without question.

The silence of the night settled softly around them, the clear sky vast above them. Damien found a flat rock jutting out of the ground and sat down on it. Michael joined him a moment later, their shoulders touching. A warm, comforting presence beside Damien. As always.

They shared a long look, but didn’t speak, just turned to look up into the stars. And as he gazed up at the sparkling lights above him, Damien finally forced himself to commit to a direction he needed to take to begin the next chapter of his life.

And he wished he could freeze time—this perfect, last night with Michael.

~*~*~*~*~*~

This time Damien led them back to the motel. He hadn’t spoken a word since leaving the airport, and Michael respected his silence, not pushing him to talk. He’d seen how affected his partner was by Finn calling him “Dad”. And he was happy for him, that he was getting this second chance with his son.

He’d followed Damien out into the desert without question. As partners do.

But as he sat there looking up at the stars, shoulder-to-shoulder with Damien, he felt a heaviness in his chest. The end was near. And he’d do anything to freeze that moment—forever side by side with the man who had come to be the other half of himself. Michael had to hold in a chuckle. It was true. Damien did complete him.

Time marched on, though, and now they approached their rooms. But before Michael could walk past Damien to his own door, his partner finally spoke.

“Drink?”

Michael breathed out, grateful for the invitation to extend the night. “Sounds good.”

He followed Damien inside, his partner grabbing two beers out of the mini fridge they’d kept well-stocked this past week. He tossed one to Michael then slid open the glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony. They drank in silence for a long minute before Damien shifted restlessly, pulled in a breath and turned to Michael.

“I’ve decided to head to Wisconsin tomorrow,” he began. “My father’s got a hunting cabin there. Thought it would be a good place as any to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.”

Michael held his breath, waiting for Damien to ask him to join him. But that was not the next question his partner asked.

“So…you’ll be heading back to London, then?”

A lead weight settled in Michael’s stomach and he looked abruptly away from Damien, wondering if he’d seen the hurt and disappointment in his eyes before he could avert his gaze. Michael cleared his throat. “I…yeah, I guess so.”

He turned slowly back to Damien, their eyes meeting, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions and desires. And with a crushing wave of sadness that this was how it was to end, Michael touched his bottle to Damien’s. A last salute to their partnership.

Then he turned and walked away, forcing himself to not look back.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later—an hour? Two? Michael opened his eyes to the semi-dark of the room when he heard the soft _click_ of the connecting door opening. Though the lights were off and he was in bed, he’d been doing anything but sleeping, his mind too restless. But he didn’t let on he was awake, closing his eyes, lying still on his back, wondering what Damien wanted from this late night visit.

He sensed Damien pausing in the doorway and for a moment Michael thought he would go back into his own room. But then he heard Damien’s soft footsteps approaching. He paused again, then Michael felt the bed dip as Damien sat down beside him. But still Michael did not move, despite the sudden spike in his pulse, until Damien lay his hand on his leg.

“Mike?”

Michael opened his eyes at Damien’s hesitant whisper, his partner silhouetted in the moonlight next to him, wearing only his boxer briefs. Michael remained silent, afraid he now knew what Damien wanted, and the hard answer he would have to give him.

Damien slid his hand slowly up Michael’s leg, to just above his knee, as he leaned down, his voice tentative. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll walk away.”

Michael squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the same expression he’d seen on Damien’s face as he watched the gay couple kiss. His chest constricted as he opened his eyes and forced the words out.

“I can’t.” He swallowed hard as he felt Damien stiffen, his blue eyes dimming. “I can’t do just one night with you,” Michael confessed. “I want more. But you…don’t.”

Damien sat back, his eyes widening. “What makes you think that?”

“Otherwise you’d have asked me stay with you, join you at the cabin,” Michael answered simply. “To start a new life…together.”

Damien was still for the span of several heartbeats and Michael could see him gathering his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his tone was more serious and sincere than Michael could ever remember hearing from him.

“I didn’t want to hold you back from whatever you wanted to do with your life,” Damien began. “I told you once before—I’m willing to screw up a lot of things, but your life isn’t one of them.” His hand flexed on Michael’s leg. “But when you drove off, away from me and Finn…this…hole opened up inside me. Like a piece of me was missing. And I didn’t know how I was going to do this without you by my side.” He paused, his throat working. “The same hole that’s threatening to open up again if you go back to London.” He slid the sheet down that was covering Michael and placed his hand on Michael’s chest. “So I’m asking you now. Stay…please? Let’s figure this out together.”

A riot of emotions flooded through Michael, Damien’s hand like a brand on his chest, his skin on fire. Breath hitching, he studied his partner’s face. He’d only seen Damien this open, this vulnerable, once before—when he admitted to the accidental death of a child. But his partner would say anything, sweet talk anyone when he wanted a quick fuck. But that’s not what Michael was sensing now—that once Damien got what he wanted he’d be gone before morning. No. He truly wanted to be with Michael. And Michael wanted him.

Their first kiss was not tentative.

Michael surged up, cupping one hand around the back of Damien’s head and sealed their mouths together, answering him without words.

His partner’s lips were surprisingly soft and parted eagerly with one swipe of Michael’s tongue. They swallowed down one another’s groans at their first taste of each other, their mouths moving together hungrily. Damien swiped away the thin blanket and sheet covering Michael, his movements jerky in his haste, tumbling Michael back down onto the bed, holding him close. Michael sucked in a breath as Damien’s heavy weight covered him, kissing him harder as he wrapped his arms around his partner’s back. It had been so long since he’d felt the touch of another man’s embrace…

Their mouths parted only to come back together again and again as they rocked against each other on the bed. Damien kissed with an intensity that Michael had never experienced, not even with Kerry. It left him lightheaded, taking away his ability to think, only feel.

Michael rolled them over, their arms and legs tangling together in a sensual wrestling match, their kisses hard and fast and deep, pent-up desires finally releasing in a heady rush of endorphins.

Every inch of Michael’s skin was on fire now, ignited by the press of Damien’s body, the heat pooling in his groin. He felt an answering heat from his partner, their fully erect cocks trapped behind the thin material of their underwear, rubbing together. Michael rolled his hips, creating friction, pulling another groan from Damien, breaking the kiss. His partner’s face was flushed, his blue eyes wide in the moonlight, his chest rising and falling as quickly as Michael’s.

Michael swallowed hard, feeling as though he was back on the top of that speeding, out-of-control train—and wanting to ride it to its explosive end.

Damien reached for him but Michael backed away, another destination in mind. Three, actually. Ones he’d wanted to explore for a long time… He started at Damien’s left upper arm, at the image of the stylized fish. His cock throbbed as his fingers traced over the shape of the dark tattoo, followed by his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of Damien’s skin.

“Yeah…” Damien murmured in approval, his hands coming to rest on Michael’s broad back.

Michael left Damien’s upper arm, kissing across his collarbone to Damien’s right shoulder. He sat up on his knees, straddling Damien’s waist, taking Damien’s right arm in his hand. He bent his head and pressed his mouth to the dark script tattooed there, his tongue tracing over each letter.

“Goddamn…” Damien breathed roughly, his other hand sliding up Michael’s thigh, thumb just brushing Michael’s balls.

Michael hummed against Damien’s skin, heat flaring inside him at finally being able to touch the ink that decorated his partner’s body. With one last flick of his tongue, Michael released Damien’s arm to kiss his partner long and hard before moving away once again.

He slid slowly down Damien’s body, trailing hot kisses, the soft, dark hair on his partner’s chest tickling his smooth, bare one, raising goosebumps. His chin bumped Damien’s cloth-covered erection but as tempted as he was, that wasn’t his destination. It was the large, intricate, colored tattoo on his right side. The one that had fascinated him since the first time he’d seen Damien with his shirt off. And now he could explore it to his heart’s content.

And he did, his fingers tracing the pattern, the fine lines that swirled over Damien’s skin, followed by his lips and tongue. His cock released a burst of precome as he indulged in his desire and he groaned softly. Beneath him, Damien shivered, arching up slightly.

“Jesus…” he exhaled, his hand coming to rest on the back of Michael’s head. “More…”

His arousal spiking, Michael surged back up Damien’s body to claim his mouth for another swift kiss before moving back down and off the end of the bed, taking Damien’s underwear with him. Michael stripped himself as well and stood bare before his partner, his cock jutting out proudly.

They had seen each other without clothes before, but not in this kind of intimate setting where they could look their fill. Damien was gorgeous, spread out naked before him, and Michael’s eyes roamed over every inch, coming to rest on his thick, erect cock and full, heavy balls.

“Fuck _me_ …”

Michael lifted his gaze at Damien’s gruff curse, finding his partner’s blue eyes blazing with heat as he swept them over Michael’s body.

“I plan on it,” Michael ground out, deliberately misunderstanding Damien.

Damien’s eyes went wide, his mouth dropping open with a sharp intake of breath at Michael’s proclamation. Then his expression shifted to one of absolute arousal as he bent his legs at the knee and spread them wide in invitation.

“Then what are you waiting for?” he asked, voice ragged.

The wanton sight of Damien offering himself so completely to him had Michael’s cock releasing another burst of precome, and he grasped it hard at the base, feeling it throb against his palm.

Damien reached for him. “Mike…”

And he went willingly, moving between Damien’s legs to blanket his partner with his body, his kiss full of the desire rising swiftly within him. Damien reciprocated in kind, slanting his mouth across Michael’s, their tongues doing sensuous battle, claiming one another. Damien’s hands roamed over Michael’s bare skin, across his back and shoulders, drifting down to the swell of Michael’s ass, fingers flexing, pressing their groins together.

Michael’s arousal flared, his blood thrumming in his veins as his cock rubbed against Damien’s, sticky with precome as well. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to be buried inside his partner. Now.

A thought forced itself through the haze of lust in his mind and he raised his head. They’d forgotten one important detail that was about to bring things to an abrupt end.

“I don’t—we don’t have…” he panted.

Damien didn’t let him finish, quickly rolling them onto their sides. In the blink of an eye he was up and off the bed, disappearing into his room, only to reappear before Michael could process he’d even left. He stood before Michael at the side of the bed, wearing a triumphant smirk, erect cock bobbing, holding a tube of lube in his hand.

“Always prepared, Mikey,” he winked.

Michael couldn’t help but grin and shake his head as he sat up and plucked the tube out of Damien’s grasp. “Now who’s the Boy Scout, eh?”

Damien took his cock in his hand and stroked it slowly. “Will I get a badge for my sexual prowess?” he smirked.

Michael’s throat went dry and he licked his lips. “Let’s find out, shall we?” Then without warning he leaned forward and took Damien’s cock in his mouth.

“Fuck!” Damien shouted as Michael sucked hard, his partner’s hands cupping the sides of his head.

Michael couldn’t help the moan that escaped him at this first, intimate taste of Damien. His cock was thick and hot and hard. Steel wrapped in silk. The head was swollen, smeared with precome and Michael lapped at it with his tongue, savoring the slightly salty flavor, trying to draw more out from the slit.

“ _Christ_ …” Damien cursed, fingers flexing in Michael’s short hair as Michael began to bob his head.

Michael had nearly forgotten how much he enjoyed this, the feel of another man’s cock in his mouth. And he was eager for more of Damien’s. He relaxed his jaw and took in as much of his length as he could, sucking and swallowing as he slid it in and out of his mouth.

“So good, Mike…so good…” Damien rambled above him.

Another stream of precome on his tongue as Michael continued to push Damien to the edge, wanting nothing more than to have his partner come in his mouth, spill down his throat. He pressed his tongue firmly against the bundle of nerves under the swollen head and hummed around Damien’s cock.

Damien jerked hard at the sensation and vibration. “Shit!” he cursed, pressing his hips forward.

Michael waited for Damien’s release, to swallow it down, his own cock giving a throb in anticipation. But instead his partner took a step back, his cock slipping wetly from Michael’s mouth. Michael’s brow furrowed in confusion and he made a sound of protest, looking up at Damien.

Damien shook his head, breathing hard. “Not yet. I want you in me when I come.”

Once again a wave of arousal slammed into Michael and he tumbled Damien down onto the bed with him. Their mouths met in a heated kiss as they rolled across the mattress, coming to a stop with Michael on top. He plundered Damien’s mouth as he rolled his hips, grinding down against him, teasing them both until it became too much.

Breathing hard, Michael pulled back from the kiss, rose up and reached for the tube. But Damien was there first, flipping open the cap, squirting some of the semi-thick lube onto his palm.

“Let me…” he said, voice pitched low.

Then he reached out and took Michael’s cock in his hand, slowly, slowly coating it with the lube. Michael groaned sharply, his head falling back as Damien touched him for the first time, easing the foreskin back and down, his palm rubbing over the head in small circles. It felt so good part of him didn’t want Damien to stop. He wanted his partner to stroke him off right then and there, wanted to paint Damien’s skin with his release.

But no…he needed to be buried inside his partner when he finally let go, taking Damien over the edge with him. Together.

With effort he moved back, his cock sliding out of Damien’s grasp. He reached for the tube as Damien once more bent his legs and spread them wide. Michael coated the fingers of his right hand before dipping them down, brushing them against Damien’s heavy balls, then questing lower until they found the small puckered muscle.

“Yeah…” Damien exhaled.

Michael rubbed against his entrance softly, then firmer, then pushed gently until his finger slid inside. Damien pulled in a long breath, pressing his head back into the pillow, his eyes sliding shut as Michael began to stretch him. Michael shifted, leaning over, propping himself up with his left arm so that he could kiss Damien as he moved his finger in and out. Damien curled a hand around the back of Michael’s neck as they exchanged short, hungry kisses. Michael pressed deeper and Damien gave a tiny gasp.

“More…”

Michael added a second finger and a shiver ran through Damien’s body, his hips canting upward, trying to get them deeper. Their kisses became more urgent as Michael continued to open Damien, his cock so hard now it was nearly painful.

“Now… _now_. Mike… _please_ …” Damien rasped.

Michael nodded, rising back up, swallowing hard as he withdrew his fingers and settled himself between Damien’s spread legs. His heart pounding a staccato rhythm, blood thrumming in his veins, Michael paused with the head of his cock rubbing against his partner’s entrance. There would only ever be one “first time”. He locked eyes with Damien, and the openness, trust and vulnerability he saw once again in their blue depths constricted his chest with emotion as he pressed his hips forward, drawing out the moment as long as he could before his cock slipped inside Damien.

Twin, sharp moans echoed in the moonlight as they joined together as intimately as two people could be.

Damien’s body was tight and hot and gripped Michael’s cock, drawing him in until Michael filled him completely. They paused then, Michael leaning over Damien, hands braced on either side of his shoulders.

“Damien…” Michael whispered roughly, simply, unable to put into words what he was feeling. Just knowing that he was…home.

Damien’s expression was soft, uncharacteristically tender as he gently rubbed his thumb across Michael’s cheekbone. Ever in tune with one another, he swallowed hard and nodded. “Yeah…I know…”

In their kiss were the words they could not say, their bodies speaking for them as they began to move together in an ages-old rhythm.

Panting breaths filled the air as Michael pushed his cock in and out of Damien’s body, their arousal rising with every stroke. Damien wrapped his legs around Michael’s lower back, heels pressing. “Harder…” he ground out. “Go deeper…”

And Michael did, rolling his hips, searching for the spot that would make Damien shake.

“There!” Damien gasped, fingers digging into Michael’s back. “Right there…oh, fuck, Mike, don’t stop…don’t stop…”

“Feels so fucking good…” Michael breathed hoarsely, hips moving faster now.

Their mouths met again and again as they made love, their bodies straining against one another, skin-on-skin, trying to get impossibly closer to each other as the moonlight cast them in soft shades of blue and white.

This first time was never meant to last. Too much build up, too much foreplay to take things slow, and all too soon Michael felt the first stirrings of his orgasm deep in his belly. But he was determined to hang on until…

“Now, now…come inside me, Mike…come inside me…” Damien pleaded before giving a sharp shout, his body arching up, his cock pulsing, painting them both with the thick, white streams of his release.

The sight, sound and feel of Damien shattering was Michael’s undoing. He let go, let that out-of-control train sweep him away to the explosive finish. He came with a cry of his own, his cock throbbing deep within Damien, over and over, filling him with slick, wet heat; his orgasm so intense it took his breath away.

He sank down onto Damien, feeling his partner’s heart beating just as fast as his. Damien gathered him close, his lips pressed gently against Michael’s forehead, murmuring his name. Michael smiled as he closed his eyes, holding onto Damien just as tightly.

They lay wrapped in one another’s arms for long minutes, as their heartbeats and breathing slowed, until Michael’s softening cock slipped from Damien’s body. His partner made a soft sound of loss and Michael kissed him long and slow. Damien sighed deeply, contentedly, as Michael shifted to lay on his side next to him. Damien reached down and scooped up his discarded underwear, using it to clean off both their chests before tossing it back down onto the floor and lying back down to face Michael.

“That was…” Michael trailed off with a soft sigh.

“Worth waiting for,” Damien finished for him with a lazy smile and slow kiss.

Utterly relaxed, Michael tangled their legs together under the sheet. “I have a confession,” he said, his fingers ghosting over his partner’s side. “Two, actually.”

Damien arched an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh?”

“Your tattoos are such a fucking turn on for me.”

Damien laughed. “Yeah, never would’ve guessed that from the way your mouth and hands were all over them.”

Michael’s fingers continued their exploration of the largest one. “Been wanting to touch them for a long damn time.”

“Hmmm…” Damien murmured. “I’ve got to admit, I never considered them erogenous zones until tonight. And I liked it.” He leaned forward for a short, deep kiss.

Michael turned over Damien’s arm that was draped across his waist. He trailed his fingers along the Thai letters inked in black on Damien’s right forearm. “I can’t believe I’ve never asked you this, but what does this say? You just showed up after being on leave and there it was.”

To Michael’s surprise, his partner’s cheeks turned pink as he glanced at his tattoo and back.

“It says ‘Loyalty S2S’,” Damien replied softly.

Michael cocked his head. “S2S?”

There was that pink flush again.

“Section 20…Stonebridge…” Damien said hesitantly.

Michael’s eyes widened at the unexpected answer. He touched the letter that stood for him, his throat tightening with emotion.

“I never wanted to forget how much that unit…and you…meant to me. My second chance,” Damien murmured, laying a hand gently on Michael’s chest.

Michael cupped the side of his partner’s face. “I can’t put into words what that means to me,” he whispered, leaning in for a long, slow kiss.

Damien was smiling when they eased apart. “So what’s your second confession?”

Michael glanced away, then back. “That I haven’t been with a man since before Kerry. And never on the…receiving end.”

Damien brushed his thumb along Michael’s jaw. “I’m glad you told me,” he said gently. “And we’ll take this at your pace. Whatever you want. Or don’t want. Because what we just did? Was pretty fucking awesome,” he grinned, leaning in. “And I’ve got no problem repeating it over and over and over.”

Michael gave a small chuckle, Damien’s kiss setting his mind at ease.

“I’ve got a confession, too.”

“Oh?” Michael echoed him with a smile.

“I think your accent is fucking sexy. Makes me hard just listening to you.”

Michael’s eyes widened. Then he leaned in with a smirk, voice pitched low. “Maybe we’ll have to test just how far my voice can take you, eh?”

“Oh fuck yes,” Damien growled, moving in for another kiss, this one long and slow.

When they moved apart, Michael settled against his pillow, a question forming in his head. “When did you first start thinking about this? Me. Us.”

Damien answered without hesitation. “Since the night we first met in Kuala Lumpur.”

Michael’s jaw dropped in surprise and Damien chuckled.

“You stood out like a sore thumb, buddy. And if you haven’t noticed, you’re pretty easy on the eyes,” he winked. “And then I found you in my room, for fuck’s sake! All I wanted to do was get you down on the bed. But then you said who you were and you were married, so…” He trailed off. “And then Section 20 happened.”

He took Michael’s hand and guided it down to his inner right thigh, brushing Michael’s fingers against the small scar there. “Then you dug a bullet out of my leg and saved my life. I knew for sure then that I wanted more than a one night stand with you.”

He shrugged. “But with our lives, the timing was never right.” He brought his hand up to cup Michael’s face. “Until now…”

Taken aback at Damien’s admission, Michael could only murmur, “That long?”

Damien nodded slowly. “That long. And I’d have waited longer. Though I’m glad I didn’t have to,” he smiled softly. He rubbed his thumb across Michael’s cheekbone and Michael turned his head to kiss his palm before he leaned back against his pillow.

“What about you?” Damien asked in return.

Michael took a breath. “I wouldn’t let myself admit it, but my feelings for you were there, just under the surface, for a long time. But I didn’t acknowledge them until Kerry was gone.” He paused and Damien nodded. “And then, after I was poisoned, and you refused to give up on me, I knew I wanted to be with you.”

He reached out and traced over the small scar on Damien’s stomach, assaulted by memories once more. “And then you were shot as we jumped off that dam, and I found you later floating in the water…” He swallowed as Damien covered his hand with his own. “I thought you were dead. And I’d lost my chance because I kept waiting for the ‘right time’.”

He tipped his head. “And please don’t take this the wrong way, but until Julia, I didn’t think it was possible for you to do more than a quick fuck before you moved on.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think so, either,” Damien admitted. “I thought Christy had fucked with me so badly I could never let anyone get that close to me, to trust someone that deeply again.”

“I’m glad it was Julia that showed you that you could,” Michael said softly.

“Me, too. Or we might not be here right now.” He squeezed Michael’s hand. “And I think she’d approve. That after everything, she’d want us to be happy.”

Michael felt tears prick the back of his eyes as he held Damien’s hand. “Then let’s make sure we do her proud.”

Comfortable silence fell between them and Michael let his eyes drift closed, moments away from sleep claiming him when Damien spoke again.

“Hey, Mike?”

“Mmmm?”

“So did I earn that badge?”

“Wanker.”


	4. Chapter 4

The Scott family cabin was located in southern Wisconsin. They could have just hopped on a plane and been there in a few hours. But by mutual agreement they decided to hop on their bikes instead and make a road trip out of it. To make up for their aborted West coast trip the previous summer.

Damien still didn’t know what kind of life he was driving toward, but he’d never felt lighter, happier, with Michael at his side.

Their days were filled with the open highway, greasy diner food and kitchy tourist attractions along the way while their nights were filled with whiskey and beer at local dive bars and cheap motels with mattresses that squeaked and headboards that rattled as they made love enthusiastically and repeatedly.

It almost didn’t seem real, the change in their relationship. Damien hadn’t been able to get Finn’s words out of his head as he stood on the balcony - _Don’t let him go -_ as if his son knew something he didn’t. That, combined with the flash of hurt and disappointment he’d seen in Michael’s eyes had him taking the biggest gamble of his life. And he’d come up aces. Michael was willing to take a chance on him. On them. And one look at his smiling face riding next to him, Damien knew he’d do everything in his power to make it work, to not make Michael regret it.

They arrived in Trail’s End, Wisconsin, population—12,231—late afternoon. Damien hadn’t been there since he was 14-years-old, but muscle memory guided his motorcycle out to the very edge of town, where city streets and buildings gave way to dirt roads and forest. Memories assaulted Damien as he led Michael down a long, gravel driveway, to the cabin tucked away in the trees.

They parked on the side of the cabin and turned off their bikes. Damien was immediately enveloped by the peaceful sounds of the forest around him—the rustle of the leaves on the cool breeze, the sound of birds chirping—and the smell of pine. He inhaled deeply of the fresh air. He could almost hear the echoes of his brother’s voices…

“This is beautiful, mate.”

Michael’s voice pulled him back to the present. “Yeah, hard to believe the center of town is only twenty minutes away. There are cabins on either side but far enough away you can’t see them through the trees. C’mon…”

Damien walked around to the front of the cabin, Michael beside him.

“You didn’t mention there was a lake,” Michael said as Damien bent down in front of the flower pot next to the front door. Hopefully… Yes, there was the spare key. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to break into the cabin.

“Yeah,” Damien answered as he inserted the key into the lock. “It’s not very big, but good for swimming, fishing, kayaking.”

He opened the door and stepped inside—and felt like he’d entered a time capsule. Almost nothing had changed, and the memories came fast and furious as he looked around the interior—pancake breakfasts at the small kitchen table, board games on the floor in the living room, ghost stories in front of the fireplace…

“I like it.”

Damien blinked away the happier times of his life and turned toward Michael, who was looking around with a smile on his face. He shrugged. “It’s not much, but it’s ours for the next four months, until my father comes up here for his annual hunting trip in October. We need to be gone before then.” He slipped off his motorcycle jacket and tossed it on one of the two couches. “Have a look around. I’m gonna get some of these windows open, get some air in here.”

Michael nodded, took off his own jacket and moved a little further into the cabin. Not that there was much to see—one bedroom, bathroom, two couches, a fireplace and a kitchen. Sure enough, Michael was back in just a few minutes.

Damien hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Bring in everything?”

Michael nodded. “Sure, let’s do it.”

It wasn’t long before they had their duffel bags and the groceries they’d stopped for along the way inside the cabin. Their bikes couldn’t hold a lot, but they’d picked up enough staples to last them until sometime tomorrow when they could make another run into town. Not many people knew it, including Michael, but Damien loved to cook. It was never much fun for one, though, so he was looking forward to making meals for his partner.

Damien put the six-pack of beer in the refrigerator then wiped the back of his hand through the sweat and road dust on his forehead. “I need a shower.”

Michael turned from storing the English muffins in the bread box, a smile on his face. “I’d suggest sharing one, but that bathroom definitely isn’t built for two.”

Damien smirked. “No, but the shower outside is.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose. “There’s an outdoor shower?”

“On the other side of the cabin. Dad had it put in because one wasn’t enough with four of us here. Easier to wash off a couple of boys at once.”

Michael stepped forward, his hands on Damien’s hips. His partner leaned in close. “Or two dirty men?”

Damien’s cock stirred to life at his partner’s low voice. “Let’s find out.”

He claimed Michael’s mouth, tongue sweeping inside suggestively. His partner responded in kind, tightening his grip and backing Damien up against the kitchen counter, rolling his hips. Damien cupped Michael’s ass, pulling him tighter against him as their hardening cocks rubbed together. Damien finally broke the kiss with a low groan.

“Naked. Now.”

You didn’t have to ask Michael twice. He stepped back with a wink and started shedding clothes on his way out to the living room. Damien made a dash for the bathroom, grabbing the shower gel and two towels and by the time he returned Michael was wearing nothing but his birthday suit and a smirk. Damien dropped the gel and towels on the couch and divested himself of his own clothes then advanced on his partner. He hooked one hand around the base of Michael’s neck, drawing him in for another kiss while his other hand wrapped around both their half-hard cocks and gave them several quick strokes.

This time it was Michael who broke the kiss with a groan. “Shower. Now.”

Damien echoed his wink, grabbed up their supplies and headed out the door. The warm summer air caressed his bare skin, the thick green grass soft under his feet as he walked around to the other side of the cabin. The outdoor shower was four wooden walls, set above the concrete pad about twelve inches and coming up to just above shoulder height. A small latch held the door closed, which Damien flipped up and stepped inside. He set the gel on the shelf and draped the towels over the opposite wall. Michael moved in and closed the door behind him, then crowded up behind Damien, his cock pressing against the crease in Damien’s ass.

As Michael rocked his hips, Damien fumbled for the handle, finally getting the shower started. He sighed, closed his eyes and tipped his head back against Michael’s as the cool water flowed over his sweaty, over-heated skin. Michael kissed along the side of his neck as he reached for the shower gel. A moment later his soapy hands ran slowly over Damien’s chest and stomach, fingers pinching nipples and just brushing the base of his cock.

“You feel good,” Michael murmured against his ear.

Damien reached back around Michael to cup his ass and press him tighter to him, his partner’s cock slipping between his own ass to brush against his heavy balls.

“Hmm…so do you.”

He turned in Michael’s arms and took the bottle of gel, lathering up his hands. They exchanged lingering kisses as they washed one another—chests, stomach, arms, back. Damien’s soapy fingers slid over the swell of Michael’s ass once again, this time dipping down into the crease.

While Michael hadn’t expressed interest in wanting to bottom during their road trip, he had been encouraging Damien’s exploratory touches, which led Damien to believe he was warming to the idea. Sure enough…

“Mmmm….” Michael hummed into the kiss, then pulled in a quick breath as Damien’s finger rubbed gently against the small puckered muscle. He pushed back just slightly into the touch as his cock gave a small throb, pressed up against Damien’s.

Encouraged once more, Damien decided to see if he could take things a little further, his cock releasing a burst of precome at what he wanted to do. He leaned back from the kiss.

“Trust me,” he said against Michael’s lips, then turned his partner around.

Michael didn’t question him, but looked over his shoulder as Damien dropped to his knees. His eyes widened, mouth parting, as Damien looked up at him, hands on his ass and gently spread him open. Damien hesitated, giving Michael the chance to tell him no, but all he saw was heat flash in his partner’s hazel eyes.

His cock leaking again, Damien let the water run teasingly over Michael’s entrance before he leaned forward and lapped his tongue across it.

“Bloody _hell_!”

Michael’s strangled, aroused curse echoed in the afternoon air, his hand smacking against the wall in front of him as he sagged forward, head hanging. Damien licked across the muscle again and Michael groaned, spreading his legs wider, canting his hips back in invitation.

Which Damien gladly took him up on, pleasuring Michael with his mouth over and over. He felt the tremors running up his partner’s legs, heard the hitching breaths and low moans and sensed that Michael had taken his cock in hand, stroking quickly as the water flowed over them both.

Damien’s own cock ached, jutting out from his body, aroused at the reaction he was pulling from Michael and wanting to take him to completion.

“Oh, fuck, _fuck_ …” Michael ground out. “Hngh…Almost…”

Damien’s tongue gave a quick, hard push and breached Michael’s body for the first time. The reaction was instantaneous. Michael threw his head back with a ragged shout as Damien pressed in deep, once, twice, three times…and Michael fell apart.

“Damien!”

Michael’s body shook as he came, his release splattering down between his spread legs to mix with errant soap bubbles on the concrete. Damien surged up to his feet as Michael climaxed, one hand wrapping around his straining cock, pressing the swollen head where his tongue had been, jerking his length hard and fast.

“Fuck, _yes_ …” he panted as his own release rolled through him, his cock pulsing against Michael’s entrance, coating his ass with thick, white streams.

Michael turned when Damien gave a long, satisfied exhale. He wrapped his arms around Damien’s waist and moved them under the spray, washing their bodies clean once again as he kissed him slow for a long minute.

“That was…” he trailed off.

Damien smirked. “Enjoyable?”

Michael cleared his throat and glanced around self-consciously. He tipped his head down. “How close did you say the neighbors were?”

Damien’s laugh was bright in the summer sunshine.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael stood up from the kitchen table and patted his full stomach. “Mate, that was _brilliant_. I had no idea you were such the chef.”

Damien gave him a sideways smile as he put the last dish in the sink. “I’m like an onion, Mike. A man of many layers.”

Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Damien moved over to the fridge. “Beer?”

Michael nodded. “Cheers.”

Damien pulled out two cold bottles and handed one to Michael. He tipped his head toward the front door. “I think there might be some lawn chairs in the shed out back.”

Michael nodded. “Sounds good.”

He followed his partner outside into the pleasant night air and took a deep breath. None of the London smog here. Just trees and grass and water. Damien made a good choice in deciding to come to the cabin to regroup. They needed someplace peaceful like this to figure out where to go from here.

Damien set his beer down beside the large, rock-ringed fire pit. “The shed’s just over there,” he pointed. “I’m gonna grab some of the firewood stacked up against the cabin.”

“Got it,” Michael replied, setting his beer down beside his partner’s. The shed was just a short distance away. He flipped open the latch and peered inside, finding a light switch beside the door. Everything was neatly organized—fishing gear, a gun cabinet, two kayaks, paddles and life vests, tents and sleeping bags, various tools, a barbeque grill and four lawn chairs. Michael grabbed two of them, turned off the light and closed the door behind him.

Damien had a small pile of firewood in the pit and was just getting it lit with his lighter when he returned. Michael set up the chairs with their backs to the cabin, the fire in front of them. Damien sat down beside him, lighting up a cigarette. He took a long pull and exhaled as Michael handed him his beer.

They leaned back and drank in comfortable silence for several minutes. The only sounds around them were the chirping of crickets, the stars bright in the sky above them and warm yellow flashes of fireflies flitting around them.

“You know,” Michael began quietly. “Driving cross country out here reminded me of our interrupted holiday. And the reason why it was interrupted.”

Damien blew out a breath, his eyes somber. “Baxter.”

Michael nodded as a flash of their friend’s execution played itself in his mind. “Yeah. And I just now realized that with everything that was going on back then, we never gave him a proper send-off.”

Damien stood. “Then let’s fix that right now.”

He disappeared back into the cabin for a moment and reappeared with two glasses and the bottle of whiskey Michael had seen in one of the kitchen cabinets. He sat back down next to Michael, handed him one of the glasses and poured a shot of the amber liquid in each.

They paused for a moment, and Michael could see Damien lost in thought about their fallen comrade. They had only known Baxter for a short time, but he made his mark with Section 20, showing absolute bravery in the field. The same bravery he showed as he faced his own death, never once betraying the unit. He didn’t deserved his fate. And it still ate at Michael that Dalton’s reckless actions caused his needless death.

Damien blinked and cleared his throat, raising his glass. “To Baxter.”

Michael raised his glass as well, voice rough. “To Baxter.”

“Rest in peace, buddy,” Damien murmured as he drank.

“Miss you, mate,” Michael said just as quietly.

A military toast he had once heard flitted through Michael’s mind as he swallowed down the whiskey— _To our freedom, and our fallen_.

He looked up into the night sky. _Rest well, Liam_.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“…no…sorry…I’m sorry…”

Damien’s distressed voice pulled Michael from his sleep. He blinked open his eyes in the dark as his partner shifted restlessly next to him, his eyes tightly closed, caught in the middle of a bad dream.

“Damien…” Michael whispered, laying a gentle hand on his upper arm just as Damien’s hand shot out, as if he were reaching for something.

“ _Julia_ …”

Michael’s chest clenched at the pain in that one word, at the nightmare his partner was obviously caught in.

Damien tossed his head against the pillow. “…no…”

Michael shook his partner’s shoulder gently. “Damien…you need to wake up…”

Damien came awake with a gasp, his blue eyes wide and unfocused, his hand connecting with Michael’s bare chest. “Julia…” he pleaded again.

Michael swallowed hard, covering Damien’s hand with his own, giving it a squeeze. “No, mate, it’s me,” he said softly.

Damien blinked and Michael could see him coming back to himself.

“Hey…you with me? You were having a nightmare.”

His partner’s blue eyes filled with moisture. “I miss her, Mike.”

Michael felt tears prick the backs of his eyes as well. “So do I, mate. So do I.” He drew Damien to him, his partner’s arms winding tightly around his back. “Have you dreamed about her before?” he whispered.

Damien released a long breath and moved back slightly. “Yeah. It’s the same scene. I never told you, but when you pulled me out of the water… I felt myself…going. Dying.”

Michael’s stomach twisted painfully, reliving that moment again—pleading with Damien not to go, to stay with him…

“And Julia was there,” Damien continued, voice thick. “She was standing on the road where we found her. But it was different. It was beautiful. Leaves falling all around her. She smiled at me, then turned and walked away.” He swallowed. “It was peaceful. Like she was telling me it was okay. Nothing like tonight.” He screwed his eyes closed. “She was crying out for me. And I couldn’t get to her. No matter how fast I drove, I couldn’t get to her in time.” His anguished eyes opened again. “She was lying there in the road, yelling at me. _Why didn’t you save me? You let me die!”_

“Damien…”

“Just like Baxter. Talking about him tonight, remembering watching his execution… I know that’s what brought this on. We weren’t there for either of them, Mike.”

Michael’s heart twisted with the truth of Damien’s words. “I know. And it tears me up.” He lay his hand on his partner’s chest. “But I have to believe they forgive us. We got them both justice in the end. They didn’t die in vain. I think they’d be glad we survived.” He rubbed his fingers against Damien’s skin. “Hang onto that peaceful vision of Julia.”

Damien’s throat worked. “As much as I wanted to go with her…I’m glad you brought me back.”

Michael’s breath hitched as he drew Damien into a soft, gentle kiss. “So am I…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael dried the last of the breakfast dishes and stacked the cups and plates away in the cabinets. If Damien continued to cook such delicious meals he was going to put on twenty pounds. He smiled to himself. But that ham and cheese omelet and fried potatoes had been amazing.

His gaze drifted toward the bathroom, hearing his partner turning off the water in the shower. The aftermath of Damien’s nightmare had been emotional, to say the least. He’d lain awake for quite some time after Damien had finally drifted off again, thankfully not to wake for the rest of the night. Michael wondered if they’d always be haunted by the ones they’d lost. He was honestly surprised he hadn’t had his share of nightmares.

He blew out a breath, hung up the dish towel to dry and wandered out into the living room. He caught sight of a collection of photographs hanging on the wall next to the fireplace that he hadn’t had a chance to look at. He moved to stand in front of them and realized they were pictures of Damien and his family, from his childhood. His partner was probably thirteen or fourteen in the last one taken of him. And in just one photo only was a picture of his entire family. His mother wasn’t in any of the others. There were various shots of Damien and his two younger brothers fishing, camping, and swimming and several of them with their father. Damien looked happy, carefree.

A quiet squeak of a floorboard and his partner was standing next to him, smelling of soap, the bare skin of his chest slightly damp, a towel around his waist. He had a sad, far-off expression on his face as he looked at the photos.

“I used to love coming out here when I was a kid,” he said quietly.

“You don’t ever talk about your family. I only heard you mention them once, to Esther.” Michael pointed to his brothers. “What are their names?”

“That’s Jesse and that’s Alex,” Damien replied.

“Only one photo with your mother?”

Damien nodded slowly, voice flat. “She only came out here with us once. Hated the drive from Detroit. Hated it here, period. She never came back.” He paused. “She hated a lot of things. So did my dad. Mainly they hated each other.”

Damien turned from the photographs to sit on the edge of the sofa. “They got divorced when I was fourteen. I lived with my dad in Detroit. My mom moved out of state, to Ohio, with my brothers, to be close to her sister. I barely saw them after that.”

Michael rested a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “Ah, mate, I’m so sorry.”

Damien shrugged, expression stoic. “I’m not the first kid to come from a broken home,” he said, but Michael could hear the old pain in his voice.

“Dad always drank, but it got bad after the divorce,” Damien continued. “Our relationship just…fell apart. I started acting out, getting into trouble, making a lot of wrong choices.” He sighed heavily. “Including getting Kelly pregnant and bailing. Decided to run off and join the Army at that point.”

“I’d always wondered what drove you to join the military.”

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly have honorable, patriotic intentions,” he admitted. “More like trying to escape from…everything.” He glanced back at the photos. “I sent my dad a few letters after I got deployed, but I never heard back so I just…gave up.”

Michael squeezed his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” he said again, heart aching.

“Now you know why I don’t talk about my family.”

“Everyone should have a family.”

Damien rested his hands on Michael’s hips. “You…and Twenty became my family. And now I have Finn. The two of you are all I need.”

Warmth spreading in his chest, Michael leaned down. “Never doubt you’re all I need, too,” he murmured, kissing Damien softly for a long moment.

“Copy that,” Damien replied with a soft smile when they moved apart.

“If you hadn’t spoken to your father in years, how did you know he still had this cabin?” Michael asked.

Damien gave him a half-grin. “Before you met up with me and Finn, I got in touch with our favorite DEA agent.”

Michael laughed. “Kim! How is she?”

“She’s good. Still has the hots for you,” he winked. “I think we’re gonna have to let her down gently.” Michael rolled his eyes and Damien chuckled. “Anyway, I asked her to run a property search in my father’s name on the down-low, see if he still owned it. Figured it was as good a place as any for a couple of months. Enough time for me to make a plan. Before he comes back here in October for hunting season.”

“A plan would be a good idea. We do need to decide what we’re going to do.”

Damien’s blue eyes flashed with a mischievous glint. “The only thing I’m planning right now is this,” he said, tossing away his towel and dropping to his knees in front of Michael, tugging down Michael’s sweatpants and boxer briefs as he went.

Michael sucked in a sharp breath, his head falling back with a groan. “That’s…definitely a good plan…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They headed back into Trails End later that morning for more groceries and other various supplies, plus a few more articles of clothing for them both. And a heavy bag Michael found at a used sports store that they arranged to have delivered to the cabin, to hang from a tree.

Michael nodded to himself as they made their way back to their bikes, which were parked outside the grocery store. Trails End was a cute town. Big enough but not too big. He looked at the bags they were carrying. Living off their credit cards was only going to get them so far for so long. They needed to seriously start thinking about getting jobs. Something to hold them over for the next few months. But what were they even qualified to do? All he and Damien had ever known was being soldiers.

Michael glanced up and down the street, looking at the various businesses. This was going to take some thought. Then a free local newspaper rack next to the doors of the grocery store caught his attention. He jogged over, grabbed a few and stuffed them in one of his bags. Time to start looking at Help Wanted ads.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Back at the cabin a short time later, Michael helped Damien unpack their purchases, including the newspapers.

“We need to talk about finances,” Michael began. “I’m going to need to go back to London at some point. I need to see about getting the house sold, take care of cashing out some accounts, talk with my solicitor.”

Damien’s brows drew together. He stepped closer, resting a hand on Michael’s hip. “Are you sure you’re okay with all of that? Closing up your life there? It’s your home.”

Michael shook his head slowly, swallowing around the small lump that had formed in his throat. “No,” he said, touching a finger to Damien’s chest. “My home is right here.”

Damien’s smile was as bright as his kiss. “Well, okay then.”

“But in the meantime, we need to find some work.”

Damien gave him a look like it was a foreign concept. “I’m not exactly a 9-to-5 kind of guy, Mike.”

Michael chuckled. “Yeah, well, neither am I. But we’re civilians now.” He spread his arms out. “Welcome to domestic life. Paying bills, mowing the lawn…stopping at red lights,” he teased, echoing his partner’s words from Switzerland.

He clapped Damien on the shoulder as his partner groaned theatrically, then gathered up the newspapers, a pad of paper and a pen and took a seat at the kitchen table. Damien joined him, looking like he was going to his execution.

“So,” Michael said, raising up the pen. “What are you good at?”

Damien answered without hesitation. “Sex. And shooting people.”

Michael hung his head. This was going to be harder than he thought. 


	5. Chapter 5

Leaving Damien to peruse the local Help Wanted ads from one of the lawn chairs, Michael changed into a tank top, shorts and trainers. He’d been itching for a run since they arrived at the cabin. It’d been too long since he’d done any physical activity. He was looking forward to the arrival of the heavy bag tomorrow, to start working his arms again.

He finished lacing up his shoes and walked back outside. His partner had never shared his love of exercise, but it didn’t hurt to keep asking.

“Fancy a run, mate?”

Damien’s reply was to pull out a cigarette with a smirk. But before he could light it, Michael plucked it from his fingers and flicked it into the yard.

Damien’s jaw dropped. “The fuck?”

“You need to quit.” He pointed at his partner. “We didn’t survive all that we’ve had for me to sit and watch you slowly kill yourself.”

Damien opened his mouth. Closed it. Put his lighter away.

Michael smiled. “Cheers for that.” He bent over Damien, hands braced on the arms of the chair, voice pitched low. “Remind me to reward you when I get back.”

Damien’s mouth opened again and he reached for Michael but he quickly stepped back out of his reach and started his run with a laugh.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael set off on the path around the perimeter of the lake that Damien had pointed out to him the other day. The trail was blessedly empty. Just himself, the sunshine filtering through the tall trees, green grass and the sounds of birds chirping overhead. He started off slow, then gradually increased his pace, shoes slapping rhythmically against the packed dirt, feeling the burn building in his muscles.

Enjoying the solitude, he let his thoughts wander as he ran. They kept coming back to Damien’s nightmare and everyone that they’d lost. The ghosts they carried with them.

Ghosts…

Something niggled at the back of his mind. A memory of a ceremony he’d seen somewhere…

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael’s body was shiny with sweat by the time he completed his five mile circuit of the lake. His lungs burned and his thigh muscles ached. It had definitely been too long since he’d done that level of physical activity. Even so, he still felt energized and would be putting a daily run back into his routine.

Damien was just setting up the barbeque grill when Michael approached the cabin and his stomach rumbled in anticipation of hamburgers for lunch.

“Hey,” he panted, pulling off his sweat-soaked tank top and wiping at his face. “Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll give you a hand.”

He stepped past his partner, heading for the cabin, when Damien’s fingers closed around the waistband of his shorts and tugged hard.

Michael stumbled backward. “Oi! What—“

He turned to face Damien, who was undressing him with his eyes.

Damien ran his fingers around Michael’s waistband to the front. “No shower,” he said. “I’ve got a better idea.” He tugged on the waistband again. “C’mon.”

He gave Michael a wink, then pulled off his own t-shirt and dropped it on one of the lawn chairs. He kicked off his flip-flops next and headed down toward the dock. He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. “You want to get wet, don’t you?”

Michael chuckled, seeing where Damien was going with this. A swim sounded pretty damn good, actually. He tossed down his shirt as well, then toed out of his trainers and removed his socks and followed after his partner. Expecting Damien to strip down to his underwear, Michael was instead taken by surprise when he instead stripped _all_ the way down when he reached the end of the dock.

Gloriously naked, Damien spread his arms out wide. “What are you waiting for? Not shy, are you, Mikey?” he taunted, then turned and cannon-balled into the lake.

Always more cautious than his headstrong partner, Michael couldn’t help first peering around, looking to see if anyone else was in the water. They appeared to be alone, so Michael threw caution to the wind, pulled off his shorts and underwear and executed a graceful dive into the water.

As soon as he surfaced, Damien dunked him back down, and it was on from there. They reverted to children, their laughter bright in the sunlight as they splashed and swam. It was both playful and sensual as they stole kisses and touches, their naked bodies pressing and sliding against one another, teasing each other. Michael couldn’t recall ever skinny-dipping and it was a heady, freeing experience, the water caressing him completely, his cock half-hard.

Damien swam back toward the dock and Michael followed. His partner glided over to one of the posts where the water was just over waist deep and they could stand easily on the sandy bottom. He grasped Michael by the hips and turned him, pressing his back up against the post, crowding up against him. His blue eyes flashed heat just as Michael felt the evidence of his arousal.

“I’d like to collect my reward now,” he growled before he claimed Michael’s mouth.

Eager to dispense a reward that would benefit them both, Michael surged up into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Damien. As their tongues tangled, their lower bodies moved, cocks rubbing together until they were fully erect.

Damien reached a hand below the surface to curl it around Michael’s cock as he nipped at his bottom lip. He stroked Michael firmly. “Want this…”

Michael’s cock throbbed in Damien’s grasp, at the desire in those two words. He kissed Damien hard, tongue plunging in, then out, simulating was he was about to do. Damien groaned into the kiss and Michael shifted them, turning them so that Damien now faced the post, his hands grasping the wooden surface.

Damien tilted his hips, pushing his ass out toward Michael, looking over his shoulder, eyes hooded. “Need you,” he breathed hard.

Michael molded his body over Damien’s, kissing him deeply, sliding his cock between Damien’s ass, pressing against his full balls. One of his hands snaked around to grasp his partner’s cock to give it a quick, sharp stroke.

“Fuck,” Damien groaned, his forehead dropping against the post, ass pushing back against Michael’s groin.

“Exactly,” Michael said, desire surging through him at the thought of being inside Damien once again. He pressed a finger against Damien’s entrance but his partner shook his head, glancing back at Michael.

“Don’t need it…just you…in me… _now_ …”

Michael nodded and replaced his finger with the swollen head of his cock, rubbing it against the small, puckered muscle, teasing them both before digging his toes into the sand and pressing forward.

The water made for an easy entrance, Michael’s cock gliding inside Damien’s body until he was buried to the hilt, hands flexing on his partner’s hips. Michael tossed his head back with a moan at the intimate connection just as Damien did the same. Michael held still for the span of several heartbeats, enjoying the feel of Damien’s body stretching around him, pulling him in.

He draped his body over Damien’s once again, arms encircling his chest and waist, holding him close. “Feel so good,” he murmured as he shifted his hips backward, withdrawing nearly all the way before pushing his cock back in smoothly.

“ _Mike_ …” Damien ground out, one hand reaching back to cup Michael’s ass, holding on tightly.

What was it about making love in the water that was so…arousing, so sensual…as it moved around them, between them, heightening the experience with small waves and pulses as it caressed their naked skin, driving Michael’s desire higher as he moved in and out of Damien, over and over.

Their soft, panting breaths mingled in the summer sun, bodies straining against each other as they strove for completion. Michael buried his head against the back of Damien’s neck as he felt his balls draw up, heat pooling in his belly just as he sensed a tremor race through his partner.

“Oh fuck…Mike…”

Michael reached down between Damien’s legs and curled his palm around his rock hard cock, stroking fast. He pressed his mouth against Damien’s ear. “Let me feel you come…”

And Damien did, shouting out as his cock throbbed under the water, such a different sensation for Michael, feeling each pulse as if in slow motion as he ejaculated thick streams to then be washed away.

Damien’s body convulsed around Michael’s cock as he climaxed, pulling Michael’s own from him with a low groan. He pushed in deep one last time and let the wave crest and sweep him away, filling his partner with his release.

Michael sagged against Damien, kissing the side of his neck softly as their breathing slowed and the tremors subsided. Michael slipped regretfully from his partner’s body and Damien turned in his arms, a crooked, self-satisfied grin on his face.

“Now wasn’t that better than a shower?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

In the end, they ended up taking a quick outdoor shower anyway to wash off the lake water and sand. With the amount of time Michael was spending naked outdoors, he was beginning to wonder if Damien had secretly brought him to a nudist colony instead of a family cabin.

While Damien tugged back on the clothes he’d previously been wearing, Michael gathered up his sweaty ones to head inside to grab a fresh set. Damien followed him into the cabin and to the bedroom.

“I’m gonna grab the hamburger meat and get the grill started,” Damien said.

“Sounds good,” Michael replied as he pulled on a clean pair of underwear. “I’ll set the table after—ah! Bloody hell!” He suddenly clutched at his left leg and fell sideways down onto the bed.

“Mike!” Damien sprang forward. “What’s wrong?”

Michael grit his teeth. “Bloody fucking cramp.” The run, combined with the swim had his calf muscle protesting and seizing up on him. “Shit.”

Damien kneeled down in front of him. “Here,” he said, moving Michael’s hands away. “Let me.”

Michael grimaced as the muscle jumped under his skin, squeezing painfully. Then Damien’s hands were there, massaging gently, trying to get the muscle to relax. Michael lay back, staring up at the ceiling as his partner’s deft touch soon had the pain beginning to recede.

Michael blew out a breath as the cramp started to release. “You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you—if there’s just this one bedroom, where did you and your brothers sleep?”

Damien glanced up as his fingers continue to knead. “We camped outside in tents.” He cocked his head with a grin. “We could, too, if you want.”

Michael chuckled. “No thanks. I’ve had enough of sleeping on the ground to last a lifetime. Civilians sleep in beds.” He carefully flexed his ankle, which pulled on the calf muscle. He nodded. “Feels better, thanks.”

“Getting cramps, needing a bed—you’re getting soft, Mikey,” Damien teased. Then he smirked and ran a hand up inside the leg of Michael’s underwear. “Be glad to get you hard again, though.”

Michael shook his head and batted Damien’s hand away as he sat up. “You’re insatiable.”

“And you love it,” he winked.

Michael rolled his eyes, unable to deny it. “Why don’t you go grab the other meat?”

Damien barked out a laugh, stole a kiss and headed out of the bedroom to the kitchen. “Rather be tasting yours,” he called over his shoulder and it was Michael’s turn to laugh.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael set out the paper plates and cups, ketchup and mustard, along with the potato salad and coleslaw they’d picked up from the store on the outdoor table. He made one more trip back inside to grab a couple of cold sodas and set them on the table as well. Leaving Damien to man the grill and cook their burgers to perfection, Michael headed over to the shed.

He found the empty cardboard box he’d seen earlier and set about flattening it out. He then used the utility knife from the workbench to cut seven equal strips from the broken down box. Once he had his pieces, he pulled the marker from the kitchen drawer out of his pocket and slowly, carefully, began writing.

His heart was heavy when he finished, looking down at the names, hoping that tonight the burden would finally ease.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael sat down next to his partner in front of the campfire several hours later on the sleeping bags Damien had retrieved from the shed and zipped together. He handed him a beer and they clinked bottles with a smile. They drank in comfortable silence as they looked up at the stars.

It had been a good day. After lunch Damien had called Finn to let him know they were going to be here in Wisconsin for the next few months. And no, Finn hadn’t missed the “we” part. And Michael hadn’t missed the young man’s “About damn time!” shout that brought a smile to his face. He and Damien made plans for Finn to come visit before they left in October, which Michael was looking forward to. He wanted to thank Finn in person for giving both he and Damien the push they needed to take a chance on a relationship.

Then after dinner they’d gotten serious about looking through the want ads. Though they hadn’t really found anything suitable. Nothing that said “Ex-special op soldiers wanted”. Grocery store clerk, waiter, custodian, bank teller. It was hard to picture either of them in any of those professions. But he knew they’d find something that appealed to them. But if not, well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Michael had to chuckle, thinking of Damien interacting with the public on a consistent basis. His partner wasn’t exactly a “people person”.

Speaking of people… Michael took a final drink and set his empty bottle down. “Be right back,” he told Damien as he stood.

He made his way back to the shed, where he retrieved the strips of cardboard and brought them back to the campfire.

“What’s that?” Damien asked as Michael sat back down.

Michael took a breath. “On my run this afternoon I kept thinking about your nightmare. About everyone we’ve lost. And it made me remember when I was in China for awhile, on an op for Twenty. They have what’s called “ghost month”. As part of that, they have a ceremony to honor their dead. You write their names down and then burn the paper or pieces of wood. It’s meant to symbolize releasing their spirits. To let them move on.” Michael paused, picturing the ceremony he’d witnessed. “It was really beautiful. And I thought we could do it, too.”

He showed Damien the cardboard with all of the names he’d written. “I thought it might help us…be more at peace. And all of them as well.”

Damien remained silent and still for a long moment, staring at the strips. He may not be speaking, but it was apparent from the emotion in his blue eyes how moved he was. He finally nodded at Michael.

“Yeah…I’d like that,” he said quietly, voice rough.

“Okay,” Michael said softly and handed him three strips.

Damien held up his first strip, gratitude in his voice as he spoke her name and lay the strip in the fire. “Eleanor Grant.”

Michael looked down at the first one in his hand. Her face flashed in his mind. Theirs had been a complicated relationship. And his trust in a madman had led to her death. He could still feel the heat of the explosion on his back as Damien dragged him away…

“Kate Marshall,” he said, voice low, placing the cardboard in the fire.

Damien pulled in a breath. “The boss. Philip Locke.”

Michael nodded slowly then read his next name, still missing the young man. “Liam Baxter.”

Damien cleared his throat. “Oliver Sinclair,” he said quietly.

A wave of emotion so powerful rolled through Michael at the next name he held in his hand that his chest clenched and his breath caught. Another woman’s death he had caused with his failure. It was with effort that he forced out her name, voice thick with unshed tears. “Kerry Stonebridge…”

His hand shook as he placed the strip reverently into the fire and Damien reached out, placing a hand on the back of his neck, thumb rubbing gently. His eyes burned with moisture, unable to take his gaze from the flames as Damien read his final name with such overwhelming sadness and grief that Michael’s throat closed up.

“Julia Richmond.”

They leaned their heads together, arms around one another as the silent tears they’d been valiantly trying to hold in finally broke free. They watched the ashes take flight, bright sparks in the night sky—spirits soaring upwards. And Michael felt the heaviness in his heart lightening as he acknowledged the loss of so many who had touched his life so deeply—and was finally able to let go of the guilt and grief.

Damien turned to him, tear tracks on his face. Michael had only seen him cry once, when he confessed to causing young Daniel’s death. But those had been tears of guilt and pain. These tears, like Michael’s, were cathartic. He could see the burden being lifted in the depths of his partner’s blue eyes.

What they had gone through, what they had survived, because of the sacrifices of those seven, would never be forgotten. Michael was overcome with the need to affirm that—that he and Damien were still here, still very much alive and he sensed his partner craved that connection as well.

He cupped the side of Damien’s face, thumb brushing through the moisture there. Damien leaned into the touch as Michael whispered, “Come here…”

Their mouths met gently. Soft, feather-like kisses for long moments in the warm, summer night. Damien’s lips moved down the side of his neck and Michael shivered, even as heat spread through his body.

Damien lifted his head and Michael held his gaze, saw the emotion shining forth that he couldn’t put into words, knew it echoed what was in his own eyes. They spoke as one.

“Need you.”  
“Need you.”

They undressed one another slowly, mouths meeting and parting as each piece of clothing was removed, each piece of bare skin revealed. Finally naked under the stars, Damien guided Michael down, leaning over him. Michael reached up for him as Damien dipped his head for another gentle kiss before he eased back, moving to straddle Michael’s legs. He paused for a moment, a small, warm smile on his lips that Michael returned. Damien bent down again and proceeded to worship Michael’s body from head to toe with his lips, tongue and fingers—touching, licking, kissing, sucking. He missed nothing in his exploration—face, neck, chest, nipples, abs, thighs and finally Michael’s cock, bringing it to full hardness in his mouth.

Michael’s entire body was on fire from the stimulation, shifting restlessly beneath Damien, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths, wanting more.

“ _Damien_ …”

And his partner was there, covering him with his body, the evidence of his own arousal hot and hard against his stomach. He kissed Michael long and slow, his body moving sensuously against Michael’s, as Michael’s hands roamed over his muscular back and ass, one finger dipping down in between.

Damien pulled back from the kiss with a soft intake of breath. “Yeah,” he murmured against Michael’s mouth.

Then Damien rose up onto his knees, his lips red and wet and reached for his discarded shorts. He plucked a tube out of one of the pockets and flicked open the cap. Before Michael could wonder why Damien had that with him, he was distracted by his partner coating his own fingers and reaching back behind himself.

Pulling in a stuttering breath, Michael watched as Damien slowly slid two fingers inside his body.

“Mmm…” Damien sighed, moving his fingers in and out.

“Yeah…” Michael breathed, running his hands up Damien’s thighs, watching as his partner stretched himself.

Damien’s body twitched, his mouth falling open slightly with a short intake of breath and Michael knew his fingers had found his hidden spot. Michael’s cock throbbed with the need to be buried inside his partner and he coated his erection with the clear lube in anticipation, jacking himself slowly.

“Need you…” Damien withdrew his fingers and repositioned himself over Michael’s groin. He once again reached behind himself, this time to take Michael’s cock in hand and guide it to his entrance.

And then Damien was sinking down, the swollen head of Michael’s cock breaching his body. Twin groans echoed in the night air as Damien took in all of Michael’s thick length.

“So good…” Michael exhaled hard, voice cracking, reaching a hand out toward his partner, who threaded their fingers together.

Damien closed his eyes, bringing their clasped hands up, kissing the back of Michael’s as Michael let his eyes drift closed as well. They remained that way for long heartbeats, soaking in the moment as they completed the connection between them they so desperately needed tonight, strengthening the bond between them once more.

When Michael opened his eyes and saw Damien looking down at him so open and vulnerable, his heart swelled in his chest.

Then Damien began to move, the world falling away around them as they created their perfect moment. They had made love before but this was different. There was a level of tenderness between them that Michael had never experienced and it took his breath away, moisture pricking the backs of his eyes.

Michael’s cock slid nearly all the way out of Damien’s body before he sank back down in one smooth motion, over and over. Their soft, panting breaths filled the moonlit night as their passion and desire grew, Michael’s skin tingling.

They never took their eyes off one another, blue eyes locked with hazel as they rode the wave of release building inside them. A tremor began low in Michael’s belly, growing in intensity as the wave began to crest, wanting to sweep him away. But it was too soon. He didn’t want this night to end. Not yet.

Damien’s body gave a shudder above him, his rhythm faltering, his head dropping back. “Michael…” he groaned.

Michael’s hands grasped his partner’s hips and held him still, his cock buried deep inside him, denying them both their release. Damien raised his head in confusion and Michael tugged him down against him, swallowing down his protest with a kiss.

Still joined, Michael rolled them, reversing their positions. Damien’s legs spread eagerly, bending at the knee, fitting Michael between them. His body practically vibrating now with the need to come, Michael shifted his hips back, withdrawing until the swollen head of his cock caught on the puckered muscle and then thrust forward. Damien cried out beneath him, bucking up, legs wrapping around Michael’s lower back, hands gripping Michael’s biceps.

“Yes! Oh fuck, Mike… Don’t stop…don’t stop…”

Michael couldn’t if he wanted to, so caught up in the sensations and emotions Damien was creating inside him, the sight below him intoxicating—his partner’s body bathed in shades of orange and yellow from the firelight, his blue eyes blown wide and dark in his arousal.

Electricity sparked up and down Michael’s spine as his cock moved in and out of Damien’s body, deeper and deeper until his partner cried out again, his body trembling now.

“Make me come,” Damien pleaded, voice breaking. “God, Michael… _please_ …”

Michael pumped his hips once, twice more. “Let go…” he whispered.

And Damien did. With a sharp cry he arched up against Michael, head falling back as his cock throbbed between their bodies, painting their skin with the thick streams of his release. Damien was still coming, shaking in Michael’s arms when Michael, too, let the wave wash him away.

“ _Damien_ …” he ground out as he pushed in one last time.

His climax surged through him with an intensity like never before. The sensation of his cock pulsing, filling Damien with his slick, wet heat took his breath away. Damien gasped beneath him an instant later as he felt it, too, his face flushing.

A flood of emotions too numerous to name raced through Michael as he gazed down at Damien, feeling closer to his partner than ever before. His heart stuttered when he realized Damien was looking up at him with the same emotions radiating from his expressive blue eyes.

“I love you. Damien…I love you…”

The words tumbled out of Michael’s mouth for the first time seemingly of their own accord, before he even realized he was going to say them. And now it was too late to take them back.

Damien went still and silent, his eyes wide.

A hollow pit opened up in Michael’s stomach. “I’m sorry, it’s too soon…” he apologized, the words sawdust in his throat.

He pushed up, trying to move away, but Damien held him tight. His partner slowly shook his head, eyes now bright with moisture.

“No. No, it’s not. I love you, too, Mike.”

Michael’s heart soared, his breath catching in his chest as Damien drew him gently down into the most moving, meaningful kiss they had ever shared. As Michael let himself once again fall into everything Damien had to give him, giving back in return, he knew it was a night he would never forget.

It was long moments later before they eased apart, rolling onto their backs with contented sighs, Michael’s head nestled in crook of Damien’s neck. The fire crackled beside them, the stars bright and sparkling overhead.

Michael smiled in gentle amusement as a thought crossed his mind. “You know, they’re all up there looking down on us. How do you think they’d react?”

Damien chuckled. “Grant, she’d pour herself a glass of wine, sit back and enjoy the show.”

Michael grinned. “Sinclair would clap his hands over his eyes.”

“Baxter would be staring, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. Maybe wanting to join in.”

Michael laughed, continuing. “Locke would just shake his head and throw his hands up.”

“And Julia…” Damien trailed off, voice gone quiet.

Michael rolled onto his side to look at his partner, laying a hand on his chest. “She’d say well done, boys.”

Damien gave him a soft smile. “She would, wouldn’t she?”

“She’d want you to be happy, that I’m sure of.”

Damien covered Michael’s hand with his own and squeezed. “Good to know I’m not disappointing her, then.”

Michael gave him a lingering kiss, then moved to lay back down but something poked him in his leg. He reached down and picked up the discarded tube. He held it up to his partner.

“Care to explain why you had this in your pocket?” he asked, eyebrow cocked.

Damien grinned. “Why do you think I got these sleeping bags out when we had perfectly good chairs to sit in?” He ran a hand up Michael’s side. “I was hoping for a little hot and dirty action and wanted to be prepared.” Then his expression softened. “But this…what we did instead…was even better.”

Michael kissed him then straddled his thighs. He braced his hands on either side of Damien’s shoulders and leaned down close with a playful, yet heated grin.

“The night is still young, Boy Scout…”


	6. Chapter 6

Damien was restless.

He stepped outside the cabin and took a deep breath. He could smell the beginnings of autumn in the September air. The days were still warm but the evenings were getting cooler. They’d used the fireplace for the first time last night. The leaves on the trees were just starting to turn. It would look spectacular here in another three or four weeks. But he and Michael needed to be gone by then.

It was hard to believe three months had passed since they arrived. It had been a time of change for them both.

He spied his partner down by the dock, doing leg stretches, waiting for Damien. Yes, he was joining Michael for a run. Had been for the last month and a half, actually. It had taken him a bit to work up to the entire five mile circuit, but nearly quitting smoking had definitely helped his lung capacity. He was down to a single after-dinner smoke now. He’d even started working out with the heavy bag and occasionally sparring with Michael. And in return he’d taught Michael how to fish, kayak and cook.

But Damien was still restless. Bored. Not of being with Michael. God, no. He was the best thing in Damien’s life. He was just discovering that transitioning back into civilian life wasn’t as easy as he was expecting it to be.

It had taken a few weeks of searching, but both he and Michael had finally landed jobs. Damien was a bouncer at High Life, the biggest bar/nightclub in town, knocking heads and tossing out drunks. Michael was working armored car security. And they were like two ships passing in the night. Damien started his shifts at 7:00 pm, not arriving back home until 3:00 am. And then Michael was out the door at 8:00 am, not getting home until 5:00 pm. And since the bar was its busiest on Friday and Saturdays, Damien had Sundays and Mondays off while Michael had Saturday and Sunday off. They had a single day to spend together. Like today.

The hours without Michael during the day left him with too much time to think. About his old life. He had to be honest and say he missed the action. Being a soldier. It’s what he’d done for more than half his life. He tried to push those feelings away. For Michael’s sake. His partner had always wanted a home, a family. He wouldn’t ruin it for him. He needed to accept that this was his new normal now.

The ringing of his phone from where he’d forgotten it on the kitchen table pulled Damien from his thoughts and he went inside to answer the call. He smiled at the name he saw on the Caller ID.

“Hey, man. Good to hear from you…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The five mile run passed in a blur for Damien, his mind replaying the phone conversation, conflicted about what to do with the information. He hadn’t realized he’d barely spoken until he and Michael were washing off the sweat in the outdoor shower.

“Hey,” Michael said softly, tugging him close. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okay?”

Damien released a slow breath, choosing his words carefully. He ran a hand through Michael’s damp hair, grown back out now to the length it was when they first met.

“Are you happy?”

Something flashed in Michael’s hazel eyes before he blinked and gave Damien an easy smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Michael kissed him gently and that should have been all that Damien needed. But that split second hesitation stuck with him. What if…? He needed to know definitively, one way or the other.

“So what do you think about going to play some paintball this afternoon?” Damien asked.

Michael tipped his head. “Paintball?”

“Yeah, one of the bartenders was talking about it. There’s a place just outside town.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Thought it might be fun. Something different.”

Michael nodded. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. Just be prepared to get your ass kicked, mate.”

Damien laughed and gave Michael’s own ass a swat. “We’ll see about that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Cutting Edge Paintball turned out to be a massive outdoor facility. Damien was impressed. Someone with military experience had clearly designed it. Not only did the natural wooded surroundings provide cover, but there were rusted out cars of all types, shipping containers, piles of sandbags, stacks of crates, several buses, dug out trenches and dozens of built structures simulating houses or storefronts. You could even climb several of the trees that had platforms attached.

It was busy on a Sunday afternoon and Michael and Damien joined in, signed up and suited up in camouflage fatigues, helmets, face masks, gloves and vests. It may have only been a paintball rifle, but the minute Damien held it in his hands it brought back a rush of memories of being with Twenty, of being out in the field, of hunting down the bad guys and taking them out.

The Cutting Edge employees were pairing up groups, combining folks into even numbered teams so it would be a fair competition. Damien and Michael were waiting to be assigned a team when a group of six arrived. All twenty-to thirty-something year-old guys acting tough, loud, riled up and ready to go. Damien grinned, nudged his partner and indicated the group with his head.

“What do you think?”

Michael nodded slowly, a sly smile stealing across his face. “Six-to-one odds? Oh yeah, mate. That’s bloody perfect.”

Damien laughed and clapped Michael on the shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s go make this happen.”

Michael raised a gloved hand in greeting as they approached the group. “You blokes looking for some competition?”

The one who was clearly the leader of the group stepped forward, all tough swagger and soldier-wannabe vibe. He looked past Michael and Damien, clearly expecting to see more people and not finding any.

“What? Just the two of you?” he scoffed while his friends laughed. He dismissed them with a flick of his hand. “Sorry, we’re looking for a _real_ game.”

“Hundred bucks,” Damien said. “Hundred bucks _each_ , if you beat us.”

The laugher stopped. The leader turned back to them. “You’re serious?”

“What’ve you got to lose?” Damien replied smugly. “You seem pretty confident we’re not much of a threat.” Beside him, Michael was struggling to hold in his amusement.

The leader took a step forward, clearly annoyed at Damien’s attitude . “Yeah, okay. You’re on!”

Michael gave him a wink as Damien called one of the employees over. The young woman was clearly dubious at the lopsided teams, but since both parties agreed to it, she gave them the okay.

A few minutes later they were all taken by truck out to their assigned field, along with two referees. They piled out once they reached their designated area and the refs went over the rules. Damien listened with half an ear as his keen eyes swept his surroundings, already planning. He noticed Michael doing the same, while the other group was too busy fiddling with their gear or talking amongst themselves.

Ground rules set—the team with one man left standing wins—they separated to their respective sides of the field, waiting for the whistle from the refs to begin.

Damien crouched down beside Michael behind a shipping container and turned on the headset inside his helmet/face mask that would allow the two of them to communicate while separated.

“Ready for this, Bravo Two?” Michael asked him with a grin.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Damien laughed, giving his partner a fist bump. “Let’s fucking do this, Bravo One.”

The whistle blew and a massive surge of adrenaline flooded through Damien, his heart pounding as he exploded up from his crouch. His mind knew it was just a game, but his body was convinced he was in enemy territory. The fight for survival—a rush like no other.

In the end it was like riding a bike and taking candy from a baby, all at the same time.

Despite their recent downtime, he and Michael didn’t miss a beat against these “weekend warriors”, working like a well-oiled machine as they systematically took down one player after another. They coordinated their attacks effortlessly, moving from tree to building to vehicle in perfect synchronization, splitting up, covering one another, drawing out the other team’s fire so the other could take them out.

Damien couldn’t help but laugh at the other team’s obvious frustration. They thought it would be a walk in the park to eliminate just two players and an easy way to earn some quick cash. But they had no idea who they were up against. Damien almost felt sorry for them. Almost.

It finally came down to two-on-two.

Damien propelled himself over a low concrete barrier in a perfect jump as paintballs flew through the air behind him. Michael attempted the same maneuver only to have one foot skid in the gravel, sending him sliding through the dirt instead, a paintball impacting the barrier less than a half inch from his head.

“Bollocks!” he cursed as he scrambled behind the barrier to safety.

Damien couldn’t help but tease him. “Told ya, Mikey. You’re getting soft.”

Michael glared at him behind his face mask. “Fuck you.”

“Ha! Later,” he quipped with a wink.

“Let’s finish this, shall we mate?”

There was fire in Michael’s eyes and the grin on his partner’s face matched his own. This. This is what they were good at. What they were meant to do. Not drive an armored car or work at a bar. Damien knew that now without a doubt.

“Going right,” Michael told him.

He gave his partner a quick nod. “Going left.”

“On zero.”

Damien stifled a laugh at their old argument and let Michael count down the way he wanted. This time.

It was over minutes later.

“Fuck _yeah_ , buddy!” Damien high-fived Michael in victory as the last two players held up their hands in defeat, bright yellow paint splattered across both their chests.

The referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the game and the other four players came back out onto the field from the safe area.

The leader walked up to Damien and Michael, defeat and confusion on his face.

“Who _are_ you guys?”

Damien flicked a glance at his partner. “We could tell you…”

“…But then we’d have to kill you,” Michael deadpanned.

Damien laughed all the way back to the truck.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael was still buzzing with residual adrenaline when he and Damien walked off the playing field toward the pick up area. That had felt…amazing. Those six arrogant tossers hadn’t known what hit them. He and Damien could’ve taken them out with their eyes closed. As it was, they’d toyed with them, like a cat with a mouse, drawing it out, giving them a false sense of hope that they just might win. Until he and Damien finished them off in one fell swoop.

He smiled to himself. Didn’t matter it was just a game. For an hour they were soldiers again. What they were good at. What Michael had been doing since the day he left school. Flashes of past missions came back to him—India, Russia, South Africa, Kenya, Columbia, Thailand, North Korea. He’d never felt more alive than working alongside Damien.

Then his smile slid away. Life was different now, though. He hoped Damien hadn’t noticed his split second hesitation when his partner asked if he was happy. Because for the most part he was. Being with Damien was the best thing that had happened to him in years. But as much as he thought he was going to enjoy retirement, civilian life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

He and Damien had been on completely different schedules for two months now. They barely saw one another. He missed his partner. And working armored car security? He thought it would be something he’d enjoy, an important job, a gun back on his hip. He liked all of the men he worked with. But in truth it was hours of boredom, picking up money from grocery stores, department stores, dropping off at the bank. Because really, who tried to rob an armored car these days?

He kept telling himself this was only temporary. Once he and Damien decided where to settle permanently—the topic of many early morning discussions lately—they’d both land jobs more suitable.

“Ha! Dude, that was fucking awesome!” Damien crowed beside him, pulling him from his thoughts.

“I’ve missed it,” Michael admitted, the words out before he realized he was going to say them. “This,” he lifted up the rifle. “This is what we’re good at,” he continued, unable to stop himself.

Damien went still beside him, his blue eyes studying him for a long moment. Then a smile slid across his face and he knocked into Michael. “I’ve missed it, too.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Back at the cabin a short time later, Michael dismounted from his motorcycle and started toward the door but Damien caught him by the elbow. His partner indicated the outdoor table.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Michael didn’t miss the serious undertone in Damien’s voice. “Yeah, of course.”

They sat down and Michael cocked his head. “What’s on your mind, mate?”

Damien took a breath. “I had an ulterior motive for asking you if you wanted to go do paintball.”

Michael’s brows drew together in confusion as Damien continued.

“Before you met up with me and Finn, I’d started getting in touch with some of my old Delta buddies. The ones that never believed the drug charges against me. I was trying to figure out where to settle, maybe be around a friend or two.”

Michael nodded, still unsure where his partner was going with this.

“Anyway,” Damien said, “One of them, Quinn Hollister, he runs a really successful personal protection security firm in Washington D.C. He called me yesterday, offering me a job.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose as Damien kept talking.

“I told him that things had changed with me since we last talked. That you and I were together now. So he offered us _both_ a job.”

Michael sat forward. “Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday? And what does this have to do with paintball?”

Damien leaned in toward Michael. “Because I didn’t want to push you back into our old life if you were good with retirement. So that’s why I suggested paintball. After you hesitated when I asked if you were happy. I needed to know if you missed the action as much as I have.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “I wanted to be happy because I thought _you_ were.”

Damien sat back with a laugh. “Boy, what a pair we make.”

Michael spread his hands out. “I love what we have here but it doesn’t feel like…us.”

Damien nodded slowly. “Yeah, exactly. So…I’ll call Quinn back? Tell him we accept?”

Michael smiled. “Yeah,” he answered, then his smile faded. “You know, Locke once told me that soldiers like us don’t make good old men. I didn’t want to believe him but…”

Damien leaned forward again and took Michael’s hand in his. “Hey, we can still do what we love and prove him wrong.”

Michael squeezed his partner’s hand. “I think he’d like that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next evening Damien paced distractedly around the small living area in the cabin, glancing at his watch yet again. Waiting for Michael to arrive back home. Wondering what he was doing after his cryptic words that morning, after telling Damien he was putting in his notice at the armored car company. Which Damien would also be doing at the bar in a few hours.

_“I have to make a stop on the way home. It’ll take some time, but I’ll be back before you leave,” Michael had told him. “And before you ask, I can’t tell you where I’m going.”_

_Damien’s brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”_

_Michael moved in close, hands on Damien’s hips. “Everything’s fine,” he assured him. “It’s just…something I need to do.” He gave Damien a soft smile. “You’ll understand when I get back.”_

He respected his partner’s wish and didn’t press him for more details, but it was going on two extra hours now and Damien had to leave for the bar soon. He walked into the bedroom and pulled off his t-shirt, needing to change into his High Life “Security” shirt and put on his boots. And then he was calling Michael to find out where the hell he was. Because a tendril of concern was forming in his head.

He tossed his High Life shirt from the dresser drawer onto the bed and had one boot on and was lacing it up when he heard the rumble of Michael’s motorcycle pulling up outside. He’d just finished tying his boot when Michael walked in the back door.

“Damien?”

“In here,” Damien answered in relief, getting to his feet.

“Hey,” Michael smiled at him as he walked into the bedroom. “Sorry I’m late. It took a bit longer than I thought it would. But I wanted to make sure it was done proper.”

“Are you going to let me in on the secret now? What are you talking about?”

Michael’s expression changed, his hazel eyes serious, and emotional, taking Damien by surprise. His partner stepped closer, carefully pulling up the sleeve of his shirt.

“This,” Michael whispered.

Damien looked down to see his partner’s right forearm covered in plastic wrap. And beneath the clear material was a fresh, dark tattoo identical to the one on his own right forearm. Damien’s jaw dropped in shock. Michael reverently touched the last symbol, the “S”.

“Scott,” he whispered in explanation.

A riot of emotions coursed through Damien. Michael had _marked himself_ for him. For _them_.

“Mike…” he breathed, voice catching, heart skipping.

Michael moved even closer. “I never wanted to forget, either,” he murmured against Damien’s lips.

Damien kissed Michael with everything he was feeling, expressing how deeply Michael’s devotion had moved him. Michael fell into the kiss, which quickly built from gentle to heated as Damien realized how aroused he was at Michael’s ink, how stunning it looked against his partner’s fair skin, his name now branded there forever. And he was determined to return the favor as soon as it was healed and create an erogenous zone Michael would never realize he had, same as Damien.

But for now he’d make do with every other part of Michael’s body, making sure his partner knew exactly how much those letters meant to him.

Clothes fell away to puddle at their feet until there was nothing between them. Only hard muscle and warm, soft skin. Hands wandered over broad backs and the curve of an ass, fingers flexing. They kissed again and again until they were both hard and wanting, until Damien needed to pull back for breath. Heat flushed through him at the look of desire in Michael’s eyes. He kissed him hard once more, then took a step back and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked pointedly at Michael’s erection, then up to his partner’s face, running a tongue over his lips, making his intention clear.

“C’mere…”

He grasped Michael’s hips loosely and tugged his partner closer, until Michael’s legs were spread wide, straddling Damien’s thighs. With one hand on Damien’s jaw, Michael gently urged his mouth open and with his other he took hold of his cock, smoothed back the foreskin and slipped it slowly past Damien’s lips.

Damien’s eyes fluttered closed as Michael’s cock slid against his tongue and twin groans mingled in the quiet of the room.

“Yeah…” Michael breathed, one hand settling on Damien’s shoulder, the fingers of the other threading through his short hair.

Damien hummed in response as he took all of Michael’s long, thick length down his throat. He loved the feel of his partner’s cock, hot and hard. He swallowed around it as he pulled back to suck on the swollen head, groaning as a burst of precome coated his tongue, salty and bitter and uniquely Michael. And he wanted more. He wanted all Michael had to give.

He set about making his partner fall apart, bobbing his head, sucking, licking, drawing inarticulate sounds of arousal from Michael, his own cock throbbing between his legs. More precome slid down his throat as his hand joined in, stroking with a flick of his wrist, his tongue pressed against the thick vein and the bundle of nerves under the swollen head and then sucked hard.

Michael gave a soft cry, his fingers tightening on Damien’s shoulder and in his hair. “Fuck…Damien…I need…” he panted hoarsely, his hips twitching.

Understanding his partner’s wish, heat surged through Damien again and he stilled his head, relaxing his mouth, opening just a bit wider, his hands coming to rest on the backs of Michael’s thighs.

“Yeah…” Michael ground out, sliding his cock nearly all the way out of Damien’s mouth before pushing back in.

Now it was Damien who couldn’t stop the sounds Michael pulled from him as his partner fucked his mouth with short, shallow thrusts, again and again.

“So good, god, so good…” Michael rambled, head falling back.

Damien’s cock ached, the head sticky and wet with precome, but he forced himself not to touch himself. Not yet. So instead he slid one hand between Michael’s legs, to cup his full, heavy balls, rolling them in their sac, tugging gently but firmly.

Above him Michael sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes…” he moaned, pressing his cock a little deeper down Damien’s throat with his next thrusts.

Damien felt the small tremors racing under the skin on Michael’s thigh as his partner’s balls began to draw up.

“So close…oh fuck…so close…”

Wanting nothing more than to make Michael shatter, Damien slid a finger back behind his partner’s balls and up, searching, searching… The pad of his finger found the small, puckered muscle and rubbed before pressing, breaching Michael’s body with just the tip of his finger.

Michael gasped then cried out, his whole body shuddering an instant before his cock swelled inside Damien’s mouth. Michael came long and hard, coating Damien’s throat with his release in thick pulses. Damien groaned sharply as he swallowed down Michael’s most intimate taste. Hot and sweet. Intoxicating. Arousing.

Unable to hold back his impending climax any longer, Damien took hold of his cock and jerked it hard and fast, his balls aching for release. He moaned around Michael’s spent cock, letting it slip wetly from between his lips. He leaned forward, intending to rest his head against Michael’s stomach, but his partner suddenly moved back and dropped to his knees. Before Damien could process what was happening, his legs were spread and his cock was inside Michael’s warm, wet mouth.

Damien couldn’t contain his sharp shout as he came, his cock spilling his release in long pulses down Michael’s throat. His partner swallowed again and again, massaging Damien’s cock with mouth and tongue until he had drawn out every drop Damien had to give.

Michael slowly, slowly pulled off, drawing another groan from Damien, both of them breathing hard. Damien tugged Michael up and onto the bed with him, tangling their limbs together, sharing a long kiss, their tastes mingling on their tongues.

They eased back with sated, contented sighs.

“I take it you approve?” Michael asked with a small smile.

“Hmmm… Well let’s just say you’re lucky there’s plastic wrap covering it, because in a few minutes I’m going to show you again how much I approve,” Damien winked, rolling Michael under him.

Michael chuckled, running a hand down Damien’s back. “You’re going to be late for work.”

Damien bent down with a smirk. “Damn good thing I’m quitting, then…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

_An abandoned airfield in Switzerland._

_Michael grasping Li-Na’s arm, Damien on the other side of her, leading her between them, Locke in front of them._

_Sir Charles Ridley from Whitehall waiting for them. Mason and Faber from Stillwater, too._

_“This is wrong”, Li-Na says. “You feel it, too.”_

_The hairs on the back of Michael’s neck prickle with her words._

_Locke shakes hands with Ridley, indicates Mason and Faber. “What they hell are they doing here?”_

_“Whitehall has asked Stillwater to assist us,” Ridley replies in a way that makes Michael’s skin crawl. “In many ways it’s easier that way. Actions by hired hands can easily be denied by the state. Korea was a mess.”_

_Locke’s eyes widen. “You’ve been talking to their government.”_

_“We have to avoid retaliation. Pushed to the brink of a war nobody wants?”_

_“This is bullshit,” Damien curses._

_“Yes, it is. And I hate to see good men caught up in it,” Ridley says and Michael doesn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth._

_“We’re not. Not anymore,” Locke replies wearily. “Here’s your prisoner.”_

_Michael hands Li-Na over to Mason and Faber, who start leading her away._

_“With the greatest of respect, sir, we’re out, sir,” Locke tells Ridley._

_“Boss.” Michael nods at Locke and he and Damien turn and walk away._

_“I understand,” Michael hears Ridley tell Locke. “And I’m sorry it’s come to this. But you delivered her to us and that means more than I can ever tell you.”_

_A gunshot shatters the quiet and Michael and Damien whirl, drawing their weapons at the same time, seeing Li-Na fall dead to the ground, killed by either Mason or Faber._

_Michael sees Ridley pull his own gun, catching everyone by surprise. And neither he nor Damien are fast enough to prevent the horror of watching him shoot Locke in the chest three times, their commanding officer’s body jerking with every shot, blood spraying into the air._

_The cry was torn from Michael’s throat “NO!!”_

Michael jolted himself awake from his nightmare with a shuddering gasp, eyes flying open, heart pounding, sitting up and reaching out for Locke, trying to catch him…

“Whoa…whoa…”

A gentle hand on his arm, a quiet voice next to him.

Momentarily disorientated, still seeing Locke falling in front of him, he blinked several times to clear the haunting vision, seeing Damien lying beside him instead. His partner gave his arm a soft squeeze.

“Mike? You with me?”

Michael swallowed and nodded, trying to calm his breathing and lay back down beside Damien.

Damien laid a hand on Michael’s chest, rubbing soothingly. “Want to talk about it?”

“It was…the airfield in Switzerland,” Michael said, voice rough. “Ridley…and Locke…”

“Shit,” Damien breathed.

“He didn’t deserve that,” Michael muttered bitterly.

“I know.” Damien kissed the top of Michael’s shoulder. “Want to get up, have some tea? Or do you think you can get back to sleep?”

Michael lay his hand overtop of Damien’s and gave it a squeeze. “I’m good. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be. Always better to talk it out.” He leaned in and kissed Michael then lay his head back on his pillow and closed his eyes.

Michael tried the same, willing sleep to claim him again, but it was elusive. Still unsettled by his nightmare, he waited until Damien had dropped off again, then slid quietly from the bed. He grabbed up his discarded boxer briefs and padded silently out into the living room in the pre-dawn hours. He tugged on his underwear and stood at the living room window, looking out into the darkness.

He couldn’t understand why he was suddenly dreaming about that moment. He truly believed the ghost ceremony had put his mind to rest. And then his blood ran cold.

It came to him with absolute clarity, that if he and Damien were going to get back in the game again, they may be putting targets on their backs. They were safe out here in the backwoods of Wisconsin, out of the public eye. But they were going to be protecting important, highly visible clients in D.C., who may be followed by paparazzi. They couldn’t afford to have their photos taken and spread all over the internet. Damien especially could not be seen rising from the dead, by one person in particular.

Bottom line, they were both loose ends to Sir Charles Ridley.

They were the only ones who knew he not only killed Locke, but ordered Li-Na’s execution and was pulling the strings for his own benefit during the entire North Korea operation. Not to mention ordering Mason and Faber to kill he and Damien.

Ridley loomed over everything, holding them back. They couldn’t wait for him to strike. They needed to take the offensive. No. _He_ did. If he and Damien were going to move forward toward a future together, Michael needed to end this. By himself.

“Mike?”

Michael turned at Damien’s quiet, concerned voice. His partner walked over to him and put a hand on his arm.

“Still thinking about your nightmare?”

Michael nodded. “Yeah,” he answered, wishing now he’d never uttered Ridley’s name, hating himself for not telling his partner the whole truth, but Damien couldn’t be a part of what he was planning.

Damien moved in close, kissed Michael slow.

“Come back to bed. Let me give you something else to think about.”

And Michael let him do just that.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next night, while Damien was at work, Michael made a phone call.

_“_ _Zdravstvujtye?”_

He smiled at the familiar Russian voice that answered. “Nina? It’s Michael Stonebridge.”

_“Michael! It’s so good to hear from you!”_ she replied happily, then released a long breath. _“I heard about Damien and Locke. I’m so sorry. They were both good men. They didn’t deserve their deaths. I was wondering what became of you. Are you well?”_

“I’m very good, actually. And reports of Damien’s demise may not be entirely accurate,” he grinned. “He’s only dead on paper. He’s here with me in the States. Alive and well.”

_“Oh is he now?”_

Michael laughed to himself at Nina’s mix of annoyed and hopeful tone. He knew Damien and Nina had an…interesting past. That mainly consisted of sex. And that despite their prickly back and forth whenever they were together, Nina held a bit of a torch for his partner.

“I’m sorry, Nina. I’m afraid he’s taken. By me.”

_“Well, damn,”_ she sighed. _“Though I have to say, I’m not surprised. I always suspected there was something going on between the two of you.”_ Her voice dropped. _“He’s fabulous in bed, is he not?”_

Michael nearly choked, laughed. “Indeed he is.”

_“Something tells me you called for more than to get me caught up on your love life.”_

Michael sobered. “I did. I need your help. Do you know who’s responsible for Locke’s death? Who pulled the trigger?”

_“I assumed it was Li-Na.”_

“No. It was Sir Charles Ridley from Whitehall. The man who ran Section 20. He killed Locke right in front of Damien and I. He betrayed us all.”

Nina swore in Russian. _“Fucking bastard. What can I do?”_

“I told Ridley I was going to kill him. I need to make good on that promise. Now. But I need recon on his daily routine in London. Do you have contacts that can surveill him?”

Nina’s voice was hard. _“Let me eliminate him for you, Michael. A gift for you and Damien. Keep your hands clean. I owe Philip more than I could ever repay. Avenging his death is the least that I can do.”_

“I appreciate the offer. But I made a promise. I need to do this for myself.” He paused. “Damien can’t know anything about this. I don’t want him involved.”

_“I understand. Anything you need, just ask. I’ll be in touch soon.”_

Michael hung up and took a breath, steeling himself for what was to come, what he had put in motion. What needed to be done. For he and Damien and their new life together.


	7. Chapter 7

A week and a half later, Nina came through. A detailed package arrived in the mail, which Michael had sent to his attention at the armored car company so that Damien wouldn’t see it. It contained not only detailed surveillance reports on Ridley’s routine comings and goings but a fake passport and plane tickets under the same false name. No one would ever know that Michael Stonebridge had been in London.

Michael stashed everything in his duffel bag under the bed. He hated keeping all of this from Damien, but he was doing it to protect him. He had a son now. He couldn’t be associated with this if it all went wrong.

While Nina and her contacts had been busy, so had Michael as well, in order to give Damien a plausible reason he would be returning to London. He contacted his solicitor, Stephen Wainwright, who had been with the Stonebridge family for decades, and began proceedings for selling the house. The few possessions Michael still had there he instructed Wainwright to be boxed up and put into the same storage unit he had previously put Kerry’s belongings. His accounts were being liquidated as well. Everything could be done electronically, but Damien didn’t need to know that.

With everything falling into place, Michael had just one more phone call to make.

“Finn? It’s Michael…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that evening Michael walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where Damien was getting ready for bed. His partner stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it in the direction of the hamper in the corner. Wearing just a pair of sweatpants, as Michael was, Damien tugged on the corner of the blanket and pulled it down.

Michael took a deep breath, readying himself, then walked over to Damien and put his hand on his partner’s back. “Hey.”

Damien turned toward him and Michael’s hands came to rest on his hips. “I need to go back to London, to finish things with the sale of the house, my accounts.”

Damien nodded. “Sure. When?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

Damien’s eyebrows rose.

“Yeah, I know, short notice,” Michael replied, trying to keep his voice even, to not let on he was lying through his teeth. “But my solicitor called and I need to get these papers signed ASAP so the deal doesn’t fall through.”

Before Damien could ask him questions he didn’t want to answer, Michael continued quickly. “So I spoke to Finn and he’s going to come out here for a visit. I got him set up with his plane tickets. We’d wanted him to come out here before we left for D.C. anyway, and this seemed like the perfect time. Don’t want you to be lonely without me.”

He tried to inject levity into his voice and in the smile he forced to his face. But sensed he was failing miserably by the way Damien was looking at him, suspicion in his eyes. They’d been partners too long not to know how to read the other. He squeezed Damien’s hips and started to move away, but Damien caught his wrist. Michael closed his eyes. _Fuck_.

“Mike. Enough with the bullshit.”

Michael shook his head. “Damien, please…”

“I’m not stupid. You think I can’t put two and two together? You have a nightmare about Ridley, you’ve been acting…off this week and suddenly you need to go to London.” He squeezed Michael’s wrist, his voice low, pleading. “Don’t do this.”

Michael cupped the side of Damien’s face. “I have to. I need to end this so we can have a future where we’re not looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives, waiting for a bullet.”

“Then—“

“ _No_. You can’t have any part of this. You have a son. He needs you.”

Blue eyes bright with emotion, Damien’s hand rose up, his thumb brushing across Michael’s cheekbone. “And I need you.”

Michael’s chest constricted and he swallowed hard, answering his partner without words. He backed Damien up against the wall and kissed him fiercely, running his hands over his body. Damien pressed up into him, arms coming around Michael, one splayed against his back, the other cupping his ass, pulling him close.

Michael broke the kiss with a soft groan. “Need you. _All_ of you.”

The significance of that word wasn’t lost on Damien and his eyes widened. Michael nodded. He’d been waiting for the right time to give all of himself to Damien. And now was that time. Because if things went sideways and Michael didn’t make it back from London, this would be the last night they would ever have together. And he wanted it to be one he’d never forget.

Damien kissed him again and moved them both over to the bed. He guided Michael down onto it and slowly removed his sweatpants, followed by his own. Michael reached up for him and Damien sank down onto him, their mouths meeting once again in a long, slow kiss. Michael held his partner’s naked body close, reveling in his heat and strength surrounding him.

Their kisses grew in intensity, as well as the evidence of their arousal until they both pulled back for breath. Damien moved down Michael’s body with lips and tongue and fingers, lavishing attention on Michael’s tattoo, kissing and licking each letter until Michael shivered and shifted restlessly beneath him, his cock leaking, eager for more.

He pressed his head back into the pillow, mouth falling open with a gasp as Damien slid lower and finally took his erection into his mouth. His hands came to rest on either side of his partner’s head as Damien licked and sucked as he bobbed his head.

“So good…so good…” Michael whispered.

Damien hummed and Michael sucked in a breath as his cock released a burst of precome. Damien swallowed it down, then slowly pulled off, his lips wet. His blue eyes were wide and dark.

“On your knees,” he told Michael, voice pitched low.

“Fuck,” Michael hissed in anticipation, knowing what was coming next, his cock leaking again.

He did as Damien asked, going to his knees, his hands braced on the top of the headboard. He looked back over his shoulder just as Damien’s hands cupped his ass and spread him open. He dipped his head and Michael couldn’t contain the low moan that escaped him as his partner’s tongue laved over his entrance.

“God… _Damien_ ….”

Michael hung his head as Damien rimmed him, licking him open, preparing him. Michael’s entire body shivered as Damien’s tongue breached him again and again, pushing in and out, making Michael desperate for his cock instead.

“More…” he ground out.

Damien gave him a final lick and raised his head. “Lay back down.”

Michael did as he asked again as Damien moved next to him and reached for the drawer in the bedside table, withdrawing the tube of lube. Damien stretched out beside him and they kissed again for a long moment. Damien skimmed his hand down Michael’s side and raised one of Michael’s legs, bending it at the knee, moving it outward slightly before coating his fingers with the semi-thick fluid. He paused then, catching Michael’s gaze.

“Are you sure?”

A smile touched the corners of Michael’s mouth. “I want this. Want _you_.”

Damien’s mouth was warm and soft against his own as his hand ghosted down Michael’s body, stopping to brush against his full cock and heavy balls, teasing Michael before drifting between his legs. His finger rubbed against the puckered muscle and Michael hummed in encouragement. A moment later Damien’s long finger slid slowly inside his body.

Where Damien’s tongue had been soft, his finger was rigid, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, just…different. Damien moved his finger in and out, sending little sparks of pleasure through Michael as he pressed a little deeper each time until he hit a spot that sent a spasm through Michael’s whole body.

“Christ!” he gasped, arching up. “Oh fuck, again…”

Damien grinned and pressed a bit harder and Michael shook again. “Feel good?”

“ _Fuck_ yes,” Michael panted. “More…”

Damien withdrew his finger completely and when he pressed in again, it was joined by a second. This…was a bit uncomfortable as Michael’s body tried to stretch wider. He made a noise and grimaced slightly.

Damien stilled, his fingers pressed in deep. “Give it a second,” he murmured against Michael’s lips.

Michael did, relaxing his body, letting himself enjoy the sensation.

“Hmmm….yeah, that’s it…” Damien smiled and kissed him again as he withdrew his fingers and slid them in again.

Damien continued to kiss him as he stretched him, on his lips, his face, his neck, his fingers moving inside Michael a little faster, a little harder, finding that spot that made him gasp and his cock leak.

“Oh, fuck, Damien…” Michael panted, fingers digging into his partner’s back.

Damien withdrew completely again and a third finger joined the first two. Michael sucked in a sharp, hissing breath at the flash of pain as his body protested trying to stretch even further, his internal muscles clamping down. He bit his bottom lip and felt his erection begin to wane, knowing Damien’s cock was going to be thicker than his fingers.

Damien stilled again. “We can stop,” he said gently.

Michael shook his head. “No. Just…give me a minute.”

“It’ll pass. Just breathe. Relax…”

Michael took a deep breath as Damien slid down his body then released it in a long exhale as Damien took his semi-hard cock into his warm, wet mouth.

“Oh yeah…” Michael breathed, the distraction working as Damien began to lick and suck, Michael’s body relaxing as it responded to the stimulation.

Damien cautiously began to move his fingers, the discomfort soon turning to pleasure as he bobbed his head, teasing Michael’s cock back to full hardness. Michael’s breath caught at the dual sensations and it wasn’t long before he was tossing his head on the pillow, hand flexing against Damien’s head as he bucked his hips up, pressing his cock into his partner’s mouth, and then down onto Damien’s fingers, trying to get them deeper.

He was panting, his head spinning, the first stirrings of his orgasm growing low in his belly. He wanted to come, but not yet, not until Damien was inside him.

“Stop, stop…” he pleaded gruffly.

Damien immediately let Michael’s cock slip from his mouth, his fingers ceasing movement, still inside Michael’s body.

“Mike?”

“Now, Damien… _please_ …”

Damien’s eyes went wide and dark, arousal flashing in their blue depths. He moved back up Michael’s body to kiss him, their tongues sliding, pressing together. Damien slowly removed his fingers and Michael immediately felt empty.

Damien eased back from the kiss and Michael spread his legs in invitation. Damien moved between them and slicked up his cock. He leaned over, one hand braced next to Michael’s shoulder, the other around the base of his cock, guiding it toward Michael’s entrance. He paused then, holding Michael’s gaze.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s ‘first’,” he murmured.

Michael smiled up at him softly, running a hand through his dark hair. “Well, I’m glad you’re mine.”

“Gonna make it good for you, Mike,” Damien promised.

Michael glanced down at his partner’s full cock with a smirk. “Oh, of that I’ve no doubt.”

Amusement danced in Damien’s eyes and he huffed out a laugh. “Just you wait and see, Mike. Just you wait and see…”

Then he made good on his word, the swollen head of his cock pressing against the small, puckered muscle until it slowly, slowly slipped inside for the first time.

Michael’s body was ready for him but he still gasped at the sensation, head falling back, eyes slipping closed as Damien drew it out for as long as possible, letting Michael feel every single inch of his thick length until Michael had taken all of him in.

The sensation was incredible, his body stretching so perfectly around Damien’s cock, so deep inside him, as intimately connected as two men could be.

“Feels… _amazing_ …” Michael smiled, his hands resting on Damien’s hips.

His partner winked at him. “Oh, it’s about to get a whole hell of a lot better, Mikey.”

Once again, Damien was true to his word. He began to move, sliding his cock nearly all of the way out of Michael’s body before pushing back in, in one long thrust, setting up a smooth rhythm designed to drive Michael out of his mind.

And it worked. It wasn’t long before Michael was drowning in the sensations Damien was creating within him as he made love to him. Inarticulate sounds fell from his lips as Damien moved in and out of his body, driving his arousal higher with each press of his cock.

“ _Harder_ …” Michael ground out, his cock leaking precome copiously. “God, Damien…go deeper…”

“Oh, fuck, Mike…” Damien panted, snapping his hips.

Michael groaned, raising his legs up to wrap them around his partner’s lower back, changing the angle of penetration.

“There!” he cried out, clutching Damien’s back as Damien’s cock found his hidden spot.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you…” Damien whispered hoarsely, thrusting steadily.

“Don’t stop…so close…”

“So good, Mike…so good…”

Michael arched up with a low moan, his body straining against Damien’s as his climax built and built, a growing wave rising up inside him until it could no longer be contained.

“I’m coming…oh, fuck, Damien, I’m coming…”

“Fuck yeah, Mike. Let go...”

Michael cried out as he let the wave crest and sweep him away, his vision graying out, body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm as his cock jerked and pulsed, coating his chest and stomach with thick, white streams.

Michael’s internal muscles contracted around Damien’s cock as he came, pulling him in, holding him deep inside. Damien stiffened above him, throwing his head back with a hoarse shout.

“Mike!”

An instant later Michael gasped at the erotic sensation of Damien’s cock throbbing inside him, filling him with his hot, slick release for the first time.

Damien sagged down onto him, still inside him, and they held one another close until they stopped shaking. Michael’s body was heavy and sated and he made a sound of protest when Damien finally slipped from him and moved to lie next to him. They kissed slowly, gently for long moments, hands smoothing over bare skin.

When they eased back, there was such a weight of restrained emotion in Damien’s eyes that Michael’s heart stuttered.

“Damien?” he whispered.

“I love you, Mike,” Damien replied, voice catching. “And I know I can’t stop you from going. Just…” he swallowed and pulled Michael to him. “Come back to me…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael stepped out of the black taxicab and onto the busy London street. He glanced casually around before walking unhurriedly down the sidewalk. It was a typical early evening in September—gray, overcast, foggy, with the promise of rain in the air. He took a breath, drawing in the familiar scents of the city as a pang of homesickness hit him. After today there was a good possibility he may never be back. The thought filled him with brief sadness until Damien’s face appeared in his mind and he was reminded that his home was elsewhere now.

He continued on his way, his destination another block ahead. No need for fatigues on this mission. Dressed in a suit and tie, overcoat and gloves—the only camouflage he needed—he blended in perfectly with the rest of the businessmen. No one paid him any mind as he walked. Exactly what he wanted.

He reached the office building and entered the alley in the back, walking purposefully in through the rear entrance, which was devoid of any CCTV cameras. He took the elevator up to the top and exited out into the empty fifteenth floor. A short walk brought him to the door that led out onto the roof.

He stepped outside again and his keen eyes took in his surroundings, confirming he was alone. He checked his watch and strode over to one of the many air vents and removed the grating. Inside was the rifle case, exactly where Nina said it would be. He withdrew it and moved over to the ledge of the building, peering over the edge, down to street level. There was the black sedan, parked at the curb in front of the row house across from him. Exactly where Nina’s recon said it would be—at Ridley’s mistress’s flat. Nina’s contacts discovered he had a standing engagement with her every afternoon after leaving his office, before heading home to his wife at precisely 6:00 pm.

Michael could have taken Ridley out at his home, either as he left in the morning or arrived in the evening, but he chose this location instead, for a very specific reason. Even after Ridley’s death, it would probably never come to light that he was dirty, that he’d killed Locke, had Li-Na executed—any of it. It was the least he could do to destroy the man’s reputation when an investigation was launched as to why he was killed outside this particular row house and his infidelity was exposed. He would not be remembered as an upstanding member of Whitehall, his name forever tarnished. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Michael removed the sniper rifle with suppressor from the case and inspected it thoroughly. Damien was always better with the long gun than he was, but this was Michael’s responsibility. Ridley was his unfinished business. He had a promise to keep.

He took a breath, squared his shoulders and removed a single bullet from the box. He pulled back the bolt on the rifle and placed the bullet carefully within. He clenched his jaw and slammed the bolt home.

“For Locke.”

Another glance at his watch and he stood, raising the rifle up to his shoulder, pointing downwards. He took two more long, steadying breaths, staring through the powerful scope, waiting for his target to appear.

A moment later there he was, directly in Michael’s crosshairs. Rage flooded through him, seeing Ridley’s face again.

“For Section 20.”

A muted gunshot rang out. The back of Ridley’s head blew apart.

Michael’s eyes narrowed in grim satisfaction. “I told you I was going to kill you, you son-of-a-bitch.”

Turning away from the bloody scene as chaos erupted on the sidewalk, Michael calmly placed the rifle back in its case along with the spent cartridge and then returned it to its hiding spot in the air vent for Nina’s contact to retrieve and dispose of later. He exited the building the same way he entered, seen by no one, as planned. He straightened his tie, smoothed down the lapels of his overcoat and stepped out of the alley back onto the sidewalk where he was once again absorbed into the crowd, no one even glancing his way as police sirens began blaring behind him.

He made his way back to the same corner and hailed another taxi. He checked his watch. An hour before he needed to head to the airport. He had just enough time for one final stop.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The cab let Michael off at the top of the long driveway instead of directly at the cabin. He needed the walk to clear his head.

He paused for a moment, duffel bag in hand, as the cab drove off, breathing in the crisp, fresh air of Wisconsin, letting the quiet of the woods surround him. He exhaled with a shaky breath and started off slowly toward the cabin.

There had been ice in his veins the entire time he’d been in London, concentrating only on his mission. But now it was over. And it was all starting to crash over him. What he’d done.

He made it a dozen steps before he sagged against the nearest tree, dropping his bag as he began to shake, doubling over, hands on thighs, pulling in harsh, shuddering breaths. He’d killed more times than he could count, but he’d never felt like a cold-blooded murderer until now. Deliberately assassinating someone not during a time of war or aggression. His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat.

“Mike?”

He lifted his head and there was Damien in the road, running toward him, concern etched across his features, Finn right behind him. Michael swallowed down his self-revulsion as he was reminded why he always killed—to save lives. And none were more important to him than these two men. He would kill again in a heartbeat to protect them. He knew that without a doubt.

Damien came to a stop in front of him and Michael straightened up as his partner framed his face, his blue eyes searching.

“Are you okay?”

Michael nodded, resting his forehead against Damien’s, his tremors subsiding. “I am now,” he whispered.

Damien drew him into a fierce embrace. “It’s done?”

“It’s done,” Michael murmured against the side of Damien’s neck. “There’s nothing holding us back now.” He eased away slightly and opened his arm to Finn, who wrapped one arm around Michael and the other around Damien. Warmth flooded through Michael and he smiled. “It’s time to start the rest of our lives.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

With Finn choosing to sleep outside in one of the tents instead of on the couch, ( _“Like I don’t know what you two want to get up to?”)_ they made love throughout the night. Michael was dozing in the pre-dawn hours, his body heavy, sated and relaxed, wrapped around Damien when his partner spoke softly.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Michael answered just as quietly. He never wanted to think of it again.

“You didn’t have to do it alone.”

Michael shifted so that he could look at Damien. “Yes, I did. Because of that boy outside. I wasn’t going to take the chance that he could lose his father so soon after he found him. If something would’ve happened to you… I never could’ve lived with myself.”

Damien’s blue eyes were soft as he leaned in. “I love you,” he murmured against Michael’s lips as he kissed him gently.

Michael smoothed his hand across Damien’s chest when they moved apart. “There is one thing I do want to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“Before I left I went to the cemetery. To visit Locke and Julia. To pay our respects.”

Damien’s eyes closed briefly and he rubbed his thumb across Michael’s cheekbone. “Thank you for that,” he replied, voice gruff.

“There were already flowers there, so someone’s looking after them.”

“I’m glad we got them home and that they’re not alone.”

Michael took a breath. “I visited Kerry, too. Said my goodbyes. Told her about us.”

Damien’s thumb caressed Michael’s cheek again. “That couldn’t have been easy. But like what you said about Julia, I think Kerry would want you to be happy, too.”

Michael nodded. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for her death, but I felt…lighter when I left.” He turned his head and kissed Damien’s palm. “All I wanted to do was get back here to you.”

Damien swallowed. “I kept waiting for a call from Nina, telling me you’d gotten caught…or were dead.” He rested their foreheads together. “Promise me you’ll never leave again,” he breathed.

Michael’s heart skipped a beat, his voice catching. “I promise,” he vowed, sealing it with a press of his lips against Damien’s.

Damien made a soft noise, his lips parting as he pulled Michael tighter against him. Their tongues did a slow dance for long minutes, Michael’s body responding to Damien’s touch, his taste, his everything, as he had done over and over that night.

Michael’s mouth moved across his partner’s jaw, brushing over his stubble, to behind his ear and down the long column of his neck. Damien shivered beneath him, his eyes closing, his hands flexing against Michael’s back. Michael lapped at the skin where neck met shoulder, tasting the salt of Damien’s skin and inhaling the intoxicating scent of sex that clung to both of them. His cock gave a gentle throb where it lay against his partner’s leg as arousal began to build for the third time that night.

He shifted slightly, moving more fully onto his side, draping one leg over one of Damien’s, his cock and heavy balls pressed firmly against his partner’s muscular thigh. He sighed at the pressure, rolling his hips, delicious friction on his growing erection.

His mouth moved lower, joined by one of his hands. His fingers ran gently through the soft, dark hair on Damien’s chest as his lips sought out one of the dusky, flat nipples. He laved his tongue across it as Damien pulled in a long breath that turned into a low moan as Michael began to suck, teasing the nub to pebble hardness. His fingers wandered lower as he played with Damien’s nipple, stopping to trace over the lines of his partner’s tattoo and new erogenous zone.

“God, yeah…” Damien exhaled at the dual stimulation, his body shifting beneath Michael’s. “More…”

Michael eagerly complied at the request, first giving the second nipple its due, sucking and teasing, tugging on it with his teeth, causing Damien to toss his head back against the pillow, bottom lip caught between his own teeth. Then Michael moved lower still, his erection dragging against Damien’s leg, releasing a sticky burst of precome. He kissed down Damien’s chest, over his abs to his tight stomach. The smell of sex was the strongest here, where his partner’s full cock lay, lifted up just slightly from his body, and Michael inhaled deeply, a fresh wave of arousal rolling through him.

A hand came to rest on the side of Michael’s head and he glanced up, catching Damien’s gaze, wide and dark.

“Mike…” he panted.

Without taking his eyes from his partner, Michael licked a long stripe from the base of Damien’s cock to the red, wet tip.

“ _Fuck…_ ” Damien ground out, his hips pumping up.

Michael was ready for him, and his cock slipped inside Michael’s waiting mouth. His groan mingled with Damien’s in the moonlit room as his own cock throbbed in response. Michael opened his mouth wider, taking in more of Damien’s thick length, remembering the feel of it pushing inside his body just an hour earlier.

Damien’s cock was hot and heavy against his tongue, the head sticky with precome. Michael swirled his tongue through the fluid, dipped it into the slit, trying to draw out more of Damien’s unique flavor.

“Suck me…” Damien pleaded, his fingers flexing against Michael’s head. “Wanna come in your mouth… Need to…so fucking bad…”

A jolt of pure arousal shot through Michael at the plea, his cock swelling even further, his balls throbbing as he set about fulfilling Damien’s wish. He bobbed his head, sucking, licking, humming around his partner’s erection, pulling inarticulate sounds from Damien’s throat as he pushed him closer to orgasm.

Michael slipped two fingers in beside Damien’s cock, wetting them thoroughly before brushing them over and down his partner’s balls, then down further still until they rubbed against the puckered muscle. Damien pressed down with his hips just as Michael pushed, and his fingers breached his body.

“Fuck, _yes_ …” Damien growled.

Damien was still slick and loose from their earlier lovemaking and Michael’s fingers slid in deep. He stimulated Damien with them in counterpoint to his mouth, sucking and stroking, his tongue dragging up the thick vein and pressing against the bundle of nerves under the swollen head.

Damien’s breath was coming in shallow pants, hips stuttering, his body shifting restlessly as he gave in to Michael’s sexual touch inside and out.

“Oh fuck, so good,” he exhaled harshly, his hands now on either side of Michael’s head, holding on loosely, but Michael knew he was right there on the edge. He just needed a little push…

Michael hollowed his cheeks, swallowing around Damien’s erection as his fingers pushed in a fraction deeper, pressing firmly against his prostate, and rubbed…

Damien’s entire body shuddered, his climax seemingly catching him by surprise, his head pressing back, his mouth falling open with a low, hoarse moan as he came in Michael’s mouth.

Wave after wave of Damien’s thick release pulsed down Michael’s throat and he drank greedily of his partner’s most intimate taste. He swallowed again and again, sucking at the swollen head, groaning as his own cock leaked, so hard now it was almost painful.

His body aching for relief, he let Damien’s cock slip wetly from his mouth and surged up his partner’s body, kissing him sensuously, letting Damien taste himself on Michael’s tongue. Damien pressed up against Michael with a soft groan, trying to pull him closer but Michael moved away. He tipped Damien on his side away from him then curled his body around his partner’s, his erection slipping between Damien’s ass, making his desire known.

“Need you,” he breathed against Damien’s shoulder.

Damien reached back and cupped Michael’s ass, pulling him tighter against him. “God, yeah. Come inside me…”

Michael’s pulse jumped and he kissed the side of Damien’s neck before rolling away slightly, snagging the tube of lube from the nightstand. He bit his lip when he touched himself, slicking up his erection, the tip flushed red and wet with precome.

He moved between Damien’s ass again, the head of his cock pressing just briefly against his entrance before he pushed forward. Michael exhaled sharply as Damien’s body took him in smoothly, with no hesitation, until his groin was flush against his partner’s ass. He held still then, pushing back his overwhelming desire to come immediately, wanting to draw it out just a little longer. He curled his body back around Damien’s, one arm splayed across his chest, holding him close.

“You feel so good.”

“You feel so good.”

They exchanged soft smiles as they spoke in unison, Michael claiming Damien’s mouth for a slow kiss before he began to move. In and out. Long, smooth thrusts. Over and over. Damien’s body melted back against Michael’s as they fell into a rhythm—Michael pushing forward, Damien pressing back. Their soft, panting breaths mingling, eyes closed as they lost themselves in one another.

Long minutes later Michael’s hips stuttered, his heavy balls drawing up, suddenly on the precipice of orgasm that he could no longer keep at bay. “Damien…”

In response, Damien lifted his top leg and draped it over Michael’s, changing the angle of penetration, opening himself up wide, allowing Michael’s cock to slip in even deeper. Damien groaned long and low as Michael pulled in a ragged breath, rolling his hips as Damien’s body took him in further.

One, two, three deep thrusts and Michael could hold back no more. His voice shook as he whispered in Damien’s ear.

“I’m here. Never leaving…”

Damien made a choked-off noise low in his throat, clutching at Michael’s hand on his chest, arching back against him as Michael let go.

He cried out as he came, spilling himself inside Damien in long pulses, his cock throbbing, surrounded by Damien’s heat.

“So good, Mike…so good…” Damien panted gruffly as Michael filled him with his release.

Michael sagged against his partner as his climax eventually subsided, breathing hard, the scent of sex once again on their skin and in the air. He kissed along Damien’s shoulder and neck, feeling his partner relax into him.

“Hmmm…” Damien murmured contentedly, turning his head so their lips could meet.

Michael slowly, regretfully, slipped from Damien’s body as they eased back from the kiss and Damien turned to face him, arms around one another. They kissed again as their eyes started to close, sleep finally overtaking them.

“Love you,” Michael whispered against Damien’s lips.

He felt Damien smile, his arms tightening around Michael, tangling their legs together as Michael drifted off…

Only to startle awake just minutes later at the creak of the cabin door opening, the sound loud in the quiet. Damien stirred as well, lifting his head.

“Finn?” he called out.

“Umm…yeah, sorry. I need to use the bathroom,” Finn answered from the living room. “You’re not like…naked or anything are you?”

Michael chuckled as Damien scrambled for the sheet and blanket bunched up at the end of the bed and hastily pulled them both over himself and Michael.

“You’re good, Finn.” Michael grinned. “Your dad’s covered up his naughty bits.”

Finn appeared a moment later, walking past the open door of the bedroom, heading for the bathroom, one hand comically up at the side of his face blocking his peripheral view.

“Guy could go blind, seeing something like that, you know,” he cracked.

Damien looked at Michael. “Is this what it’s going to be like, having a kid around?”

Michael smiled warmly at him, and at the thought. “I think so, mate.”

Damien groaned theatrically. “We are so screwed.”

After a minute or two the toilet flushed, the water ran and Finn walked past the bedroom door again, once more with his hand up.

“Just so you know,” the teenager called over his shoulder as he reached the living room. “These cabin walls aren’t as soundproof as you think they are!”

Damien’s eyes went wide, his face flushing a deep red and all Michael could do was shake his head in amusement.

“You realize he’s taking the piss, right?” Michael grinned.

“He’s…what?”

“He came in here just to yank our chains.” Michael explained in Yank terms, still grinning. “He could’ve taken a pee against a tree.”

Damien sat up. “That smart ass—“

“I’ll say it again. There is _no_ denying he’s your son.”

Damien flopped back down in defeat and Michael’s laughter echoed in the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Later the next afternoon, Damien drifted along on the lake in his kayak next to Finn. Michael told them to go enjoy some father/son time while he started packing, as they were leaving in two days, when Finn did. They were going to do their best to put the cabin back exactly as it was when they arrived, including donating the heavy bag to the local YMCA, but Damien was sure his father would figure out someone had been there. But never in a million years would he guess it had been Damien.

“So, can I say it now?”

Finn’s amused question drew Damien from his thoughts. “Say what?”

“I told you so,” the young man smirked.

Damien made a face and flicked water up with his paddle to splash his son in reply.

Finn laughed. “No, I’m happy for you, Dad. I’m glad you didn’t let him go.”

Damien nodded. “Yeah, so am I. Thanks for the push.”

Finn waved him off. “Don’t mention it. Is everything okay with Michael, though?”

Damien’s forehead creased. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when he called me he said he was just going back to London to sign some papers for the sale of his house. But he looked really upset when he came back yesterday.”

Damien hesitated. There was certainly no way he was telling Finn that Michael went there to kill a man, and he’d witnessed the aftermath. So he settled for a version of the truth instead.

“Before he left London he went to the cemetery to visit Locke and Julia’s graves. And his wife’s.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know he’d been married.”

“Yeah, he and Kerry were high school sweethearts. She was killed awhile back. Mike’s still struggling with it.”

Finn’s expression was compassionate. “God, that’s awful.”

Damien nodded. “It was rough on him, visiting the three of them. Remembering the ones we lost. He’s better today. He’s glad you’re here,” he smiled.

Finn grinned in reply, glancing around. “It’s great here.”

“We’ll have you out to D.C. once we get settled. Maybe over Thanksgiving or Christmas?”

Finn lit up. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“How’s your mom doing with you spending time with me?”

Finn blew out a breath. “She’s…she thinks you’re going to up and disappear again,” he said honestly.

“I won’t, Finn. I swear I won’t. Not again.”

“I know that. She’s just going to take a bit more convincing.” He gave Damien a sidelong look. “It would help if you’d have an actual conversation with her instead of using me as the go-between.”

Damien sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll call her soon.” He paused. “What about Marcus? What does he think?”

“He thinks it’s great,” Finn answered. “He wants me to get to know you.”

Damien was once again grateful for the man who had stepped up to be a father-figure in Finn’s life. “I should call him, too. To thank him for…you know.”

Finn gave him a small smile. “He’d like that.” He indicated further down the lake. “Race you to the next dock?”

Damien chuckled, raising his paddle. “You’re on!”

“Ready? Three, two, one!”

Finn took off like a shot, paddling furiously, while all Damien could do was laugh, having waited to “go on zero” instead.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael stood at the kitchen counter, slicing a loaf of bread, helping to prepare sandwiches for lunch with Finn while Damien waited outside for the arrival of the YMCA truck to take away the heavy bag.

“So,” Finn said as he set out the packages of cold cuts. “Can I say it now?”

“What’s that?”

“I told you so,” the teenager replied smugly.

Michael chuckled, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “Yes, I do believe you’re entitled to gloat.”

Finn bumped Michael’s arm, his voice sincere. “I’m happy for you guys. I’m glad you gave him a chance.”

Michael’s smile was warm. “Yeah, so am I. Thanks for seeing what we couldn’t.”

“Glad I could help. So…D.C., huh?”

“Yeah, it sounds like a good opportunity for us.”

The corners of Finn’s mouth quirked. “Unlike armored car driver and bouncer?”

Michael huffed out a chuckle. “Yeah, not so much.” He set down the knife and turned to Finn. “See, blokes like your dad and I, we’ve been soldiers for half our lives. It’s all we’ve ever known. We gravitate toward that type of structure, of working with a team, protecting people. It’s…in our blood.”

Finn nodded slowly. “You and Damien should consider starting your own PMC firm. I think that’d be perfect for you.”

Michael quirked up an eyebrow. “Private military contractors? How do you know about that?”

Finn shrugged. “After I found out what you and my dad really did, I started researching special ops. One thing led to another, you know how the internet is, and I found out a lot of ex-soldiers get into PMC work, because it’s difficult to transition back into civilian life, get a 9-to-5 job.” Finn tipped his head. “Is that what happened with you and Damien?”

Now both of Michael’s brows rose. To say he was impressed with the young man’s initiative and perceptiveness was an understatement. “Honestly, yes,” he answered. “It’s hard to know what to do with the rest of your life when you’ve only known one thing.

We’re hoping personal protection is a better fit for us. And who knows. Maybe PMC work is in our future.” He thought of Mason and Faber and the corrupt Stillwater. He and Damien starting their own honest firm would be a way to balance the scales.

“What about you?” Michael asked. “What do you want to do when you graduate high school?”

“I want to go to culinary school,” Finn answered without hesitation.

“Truly?” Michael smiled.

“Yeah, I love to cook. I’m planning on making dinner for you guys tonight.”

Michael squeezed Finn’s shoulder, once again impressed. “Well, I definitely know where you got that talent from!”

Finn grinned but then his expression grew serious. “I didn’t know until today that you were married. I’m really sorry about Kerry. Do you have any kids?”

Michael was caught off-guard by Finn’s innocent question and a spike of old pain hit him in his chest. He swallowed. “No. We…no.”

Finn’s eyes were sympathetic as Michael cleared his throat. “I know that Damien is your father, but I hope you don’t mind if I consider you family as well.”

Finn smiled broadly. “Are you kidding? I’ve got _three_ dads now.” He clapped Michael on his back. “That’s awesome!”

Michael felt the pain dissipate, replaced by a surge of affection as Finn picked up two plates and walked out of the kitchen.

_Dad…_

~*~*~*~*~*~

After Finn’s amazing stir-fry dinner that evening, Michael joined the teenager and Damien outside to sit around the campfire. It was a beautiful, clear night and conversation flowed easily between them as they enjoyed chocolate sundaes, also whipped up by Finn.

Michael smiled contentedly to himself as he listened to father and son talk, learning more about one another by the minute. He couldn’t be happier for both of them, glad to be part of both their lives.

Damien smacked his leg. “So I know what we should all do tomorrow,” he said with a smirk.

“Oh, what’s that?” Michael asked, afraid of the answer.

“Paintball!”

Michael groaned as Finn lit up, practically bouncing in his chair.

“Really? Seriously? You’ve got a paintball course here?”

Damien launched enthusiastically into the story of their paintball adventure, Finn interjecting excitedly and Michael sat back, warmth growing within him as he watched and listened to them both.

After the miscarriage, after Kerry’s death, Michael thought he had lost his only chance at ever having a family. But sitting here right now with Damien and Finn… He was never glad to be so wrong.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was approximately a 13 hour drive from Wisconsin to Washington D.C., which Damien and Michael could’ve covered in a single day, but that would have put them in the nation’s capital late at night, and they couldn’t meet with Quinn until the following afternoon. So instead they drove three quarters of the way, stopped for the night and finished the trip the next day.

It’d been a very long time since Damien had been in D.C. but the city hadn’t changed all that much, with a mix of tourists and government types crowding the streets and sidewalks, with military personnel scattered about as well, since the Naval Ship Yards were based here. Michael had never been to Washington and was looking forward to also playing tourist.

Damien led the way, maneuvering his motorcycle through the heart of the city to just outside of it, following the directions Quinn had given him. Their destination wound up being a nondescript building with Sentinel Security on the door. They dismounted from their bikes and when Michael removed his sunglasses, Damien could see a flicker of doubt in his partner’s eyes. Damien had to admit to himself that it certainly didn’t look like much.

But appearances were most definitely deceiving as they walked inside to be surrounded by a bright, ultra-modern interior. There was a small front desk, behind which was a long, glass wall. Damien could see desks and cubicles and about a dozen people, both men and women, some sitting, some moving about through the office. Some dressed in casual attire, some in suits and ties.

“Welcome to Sentinel Security. May I help you gentlemen?”

Damien turned his attention to the young man sitting at the front desk, who was smiling at him.

“Yeah, we have an appointment with Quinn Hollister. Name’s Damien.”

The young man nodded. “One moment, please.” He picked up a phone and Damien turned to Michael, who was looking more impressed and less doubtful.

“Mr. Hollister will be right with you,” the young man announced.

“Great, thanks,” Damien replied.

Less than a minute later a side door off the main entrance opened and an absolute bear of a man emerged. Damien couldn’t contain his grin as the 6’4” muscular, barrel-chested, bald Black man threw open his arms in greeting.

“Ace!”

Damien barked out a laugh and moved in for a strong hug, immediately transported back to his Delta days in Quinn’s presence and his old nickname.

“Quinn, you son-of-a-bitch. Lookin’ good, dude!”

Quinn gave him the once over. “Could say the same about you!”

He turned to Michael with a smile. “Come in, come in.”

Damien and Michael followed him back through the door, down a hallway and into his private office. He shut the door behind them and held out his hand to Michael. “Quinn Hollister.”

Michael shook the offered hand. “Michael Stonebridge.”

Quinn took a seat behind his desk and Damien and Michael sat in the chairs in front.

“It’s good to meet you, Michael. Ace here has told me a lot about you.”

Michael quirked an eyebrow at Damien. “Is that right, _Ace_?”

Quinn laughed. “Oh, you don’t know about his nickname?”

Michael settled back in his chair. “No, do tell!”

Damien groaned and ran a hand over his face as Quinn started to explain.

“Damien here had quite the reputation as a poker player in our unit. Because he tended to have a _literal_ ace up his sleeve.”

Michael turned to Damien, eyes wide. “You _cheated_?”

“Hey, in my defense I only did it to newbies or asshole PMCs who deserved to have their pockets lightened,” Damien tried to defend himself.

Quinn chuckled. “I’ll admit they did have it coming. Damn, it’s good to see you again.”

Damien smiled easily. “You, too, man.”

Quinn looked to Michael. “I hear you two make a good team.”

Michael nodded. “I like to think so.”

Quinn hooked a thumb in Damien’s direction. “You’ll have to tell me how this jackass ended up working for British Military Intelligence.”

“Do you have a couple of hours and a bottle of whiskey?” Michael grinned.

“Ha! My schedule’s full today, but I’ll take you up on that soon.”

Michael tipped his head. “Looks like you’ve got a very successful firm, here. How long have you been in business?”

“Six years,” Quinn answered. “I worked for a different firm for three years then branched out on my own.”

“I appreciate you giving Damien and I this opportunity.”

“I’m glad Ace got in touch with me.” His expression turned serious as he glanced to Damien. “I never believed that drugs bullshit. The whole squad knew you were framed. I’m just sorry we couldn’t prove it and the best soldier I’ve ever known was drummed out.”

Damien was moved by Quinn’s words, as he had been all those years ago when his friend had tried to come to his defense. “Thanks, man. But you know,” he looked over to Michael, a smile at the corners of his mouth, “It all ended up working out.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Quinn replied. “But still, you saved my ass more than once. Offering you a job is the least I can do. And it’s a two-for-one deal!” His gaze shifted to Michael. “Ace vouched for you and that’s all I need to know. I have a feeling you’ll fit right in.”

“So what’s your clientele?” Damien asked.

“Well, as you’d expect around D.C., a lot of political types, visiting dignitaries, high-placed government officials. Not everyone agrees with everyone’s views on issues and death threats fly in this city. Plus CEOs. Lots of hostile takeovers going on, possible disgruntled ex-employees looking to exact a little revenge. We do family protection, too, for the wealthy that are concerned their children might be the targets of kidnapping for ransom.”

He slid a sheet of paper across the desk with a list of Sentinel’s past customers and Damien’s eyebrows rose, impressed, as he read.

“Then there’s the ‘arm candy’ clients,” Quinn continued, making a face.

“Arm candy?” Michael said.

“We get B-list actors or actresses, wannabe musicians, minor league sports guys or social media ‘influencers’ who want people to _think_ they’re important. So what better way to draw attention to yourself by having a personal protection agent with you? They annoy the shit out of me, but if they’re willing to pay our fee, I’m not going to turn down business.”

“Well, other than the arm candy, it sounds like you’ve got some high-profile clientele,” Damien commented. “Looks like you’ve made a name for yourself around here.”

Quinn smiled. “Thanks. I’ve worked hard for what I’ve built here. And yeah, after six years I’ve definitely made some well-placed connections in politics, security and law enforcement.” He clapped his hands down on his desk. “Okay, you guys go ahead and take the rest of the day to get settled, then be back here at 9:00 am tomorrow to fill out paperwork for HR, attend our team meeting, and then we’ll talk about getting you matched up with clients.” He pulled open a drawer on his desk and withdrew two sets of keys, which he handed over to Damien, along with a slip of paper. “Here are the keys to your apartment and the address and also keys to the company car that’s parked in the underground garage there and the license plate number. Black BMW SUV.”

Quinn stood and so did Damien and Michael, exchanging handshakes again.

“Looking forward to working with you again, Quinn,” Damien said.

“Same here, Ace. Michael.” He winked toward Damien. “We’ll have that drink soon.”

“Only if you promise to swap stories about Ace, here.”

“Ha! Deal!”

Damien threw up his hands. “Hey you fuckers, I’m standing right here!”

His only reply was their laughter.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien and Michael left Sentinel Security and headed back toward the city for an early dinner, followed by a walk around the Mall. Michael was impressed by the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial and the US Capitol building and was looking forward to exploring more when they had the time.

Back on their bikes, they made their way to their apartment building, which wasn’t far from the city center. Damien entered the code for the underground parking garage and then they drove to the designated parking spots for their unit, where they found the black SUV. They parked both of their bikes next to the BMW and proceeded to go over their company car from top to bottom.

“Nice,” Damien grinned as he shut the driver’s door, impressed.

Michael nodded. “It’s brilliant. I see many matches of rock-paper-scissors in our future to see who gets to drive it,” he joked.

Damien made a face, well aware of the fact that he constantly lost to his partner when playing that game. “Actually, I think I should look into selling my bike so that we’ve got two cars.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Your bike is more useful than mine with the storage compartments. We should keep it. And I’m sure we’re going to get sent on different assignments and I don’t want to be riding a bike in the snow in a couple months.”

“Okay, then. We’ll start car shopping.” He smiled softly and shook his head.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just...we sound like an old married couple, out looking for a car.”

Out of nowhere Benz, that crazy tuk-tuk driver’s voice was in Damien’s head – “ _You two very good together. Maybe you two get married_.”

Back then it was a joke. But now…?

Damien stepped closer and rested his hands on Michael’s hips, his voice teasing, but warm at the same time. “Would you like me to carry you across the threshold when we get upstairs, honey?”

Michael playfully pushed him away. “Wanker.”

His partner may have brushed it off, but Damien didn’t miss that same warmth in his hazel eyes.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The apartment Quinn arranged for them was on the sixth floor and Damien whistled when he unlocked the door and stepped inside, Michael right behind him.

“Beats our normal accommodations,” Michael joked.

“That’s for damn sure,” Damien agreed as they began to explore their new home.

It was a spacious two bedroom apartment, fully furnished with a comfortable, masculine touch, with a palette of blues and grays throughout. The living room had a gas fireplace, two leather couches, coffee table and a leather chair and double doors that led out onto a small balcony with a table and two chairs. There were wooden walls on either side, affording privacy from their neighbors.

The large bathroom contained not only a glass-walled shower definitely big enough for two, but an equally large Jacuzzi tub. A glance into the second bedroom showed it was already set up as an office with two desks and two Sentinel Security computers.

Damien wandered toward the kitchen while Michael split off to check out the master bedroom. The appliances were all top-notch and Damien grinned when he found a case of beer chilling in the refrigerator and a bottle of whiskey and two glasses set out on the counter.

Michael’s laugh sounded out from the bedroom and Damien turned as his partner walked into the kitchen, holding up two items in his hands—an economy sized bottle of lube and a dildo.

“Found these on the bed,” he said. “I’m going to like this mate of yours, aren’t I?”

Damien held up the bottle of whiskey. “Oh yeah!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

A short time later they were standing out on the balcony as dusk began to fall, enjoying the bottle of whiskey.

Michael held up his glass to Damien, his voice quiet. “To the start of something new.”

“To the next chapter in our lives.”

They clinked glasses and exchanged smiles before taking a drink of the amber liquid.

“So,” Damien said. “What do you think about Quinn and Sentinel?”

“I’m impressed with both,” Michael answered. “Sounds like a top-notch outfit with a very respectable list of clients. And if they need two more agents that means they’re growing, which is a good thing. I think this will be a good fit for us.”

“Same here,” Damien agreed, watching as Michael tried to stifle a yawn. “Tired?”

“Hmm…yeah, I’m a bit knackered. Been a long day.”

Damien blew out a breath and set his glass down on the table. “Ah, that’s too bad.”

Michael cocked his head. “Why?”

Damien took a few steps back and leaned against the doorjamb, slowly unzipping his jeans. “Was hoping you’d want to break in that big bed of ours. Maybe with the gift Quinn left us,” he winked suggestively.

Michael was pressed up against him in the blink of an eye, his hand down Damien’s underwear, cupping his cock, squeezing gently.

“I’m suddenly getting my second wind,” he murmured against Damien’s mouth before he claimed it with his own.

And he set about proving it to Damien repeatedly, enthusiastically, in many ways, on that big bed all night long.


	9. Chapter 9

Damien and Michael arrived on time for their meeting at Sentinel Security the next morning and Quinn ushered them into a large meeting room where a total of five men and women, all dressed nearly identically in black suits and ties, were already seated.

Damien blinked when he saw the group. “Well, fuck me! The Men in Black _are_ real!” he quipped, drawing chuckles from everyone.

“Yeah, and you’re about to become one of them, Ace,” Quinn replied as he, Michael and Damien all took their seats. “Think of it as your new camouflage,” Quinn continued. “No one notices a man, or woman, in a black suit. We blend in just as easily as if we were wearing a ghillie suit in the jungle.”

“Point taken,” Michael smiled. “Though I’ve seen this one,” he nodded in Damien’s direction, “dressed in black and white once and he looked more like a proper penguin than a bodyguard. Might have some trouble blending in,” he joked.

Damien gave him the finger in response, drawing more laughter from around the table.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Quinn drawled with a shake of his head at Damien and Michael. “I asked everyone else here early to let them know you were joining our team and brief them on you both. Your backgrounds, qualifications. So let me introduce you to everyone.”

Quinn went around the table to each member—Drew Everett, Haley Fletcher, Luke Gallagher, Sasha Mitchell and Marco Ramirez. All were ex-military. Drew from the Navy, Haley from the Air Force and Luke, Sasha and Marco all from Quinn’s squad in Delta that joined after Damien’s departure. Quinn also let he and Michael know that there was a separate night shift team for any clients that required 24/7 protection.

“Looking forward to working with all of you,” Michael said sincerely, to which Damien nodded in agreement.

“Same here,” Sasha smiled easily.

Quinn turned to Damien and Michael. “I’m sure the two of you make a great team, but we all need to play well with others,” he smiled. “So I’m going to split you up for now. Ace, you’ll shadow Drew and Haley and Michael, you’ll be with Luke and Sasha over the next several days to learn the ropes.”

“Sounds good,” Michael replied.

“Getting tired of his company anyway,” Damien smirked.

Drew sat back in his chair with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest. “I like these two.”

Quinn shook his head again. “First, you need to head to HR and fill out a ream of paperwork,” he told Michael and Damien. “And then you’ll need to go to the range and pass your qualification test so we can issue you your sidearms and concealed carry permits. And then,” he grinned, “You’ll need to go shopping for your own suits.”

Michael slapped Damien on his back as they stood. “Let’s go, penguin.”

“Fuck you, Mikey.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next four days were uneventful, but a learning experience for both Damien and Michael as they settled into their new jobs, their new team, finding they truly enjoyed working with everyone. And in a lot of ways it did mirror their Section 20 days—protecting people, always on guard, looking for a threat that could come out of anywhere. They just did it in suits and ties now. Though if Damien heard one more crack about how Michael looked like James Bond in his…

But his partner was happy. Truly happy this time. And that’s all that mattered. Damien was glad they’d taken Quinn up on his offer. This finally seemed to be the right fit for them both.

~*~*~*~*~*~

But nearly three weeks later Damien was thinking otherwise. He’d had more than his fair share of “arm candy” assignments where his clients basically wanted to show him off like some kind of pet. Michael’s assignments hadn’t been all that exciting either, mainly working details on government types that only lasted a day or two.

The excitement Damien was looking for when he signed on with Sentinel Security had faded and he was beginning to second-guess his decision to work for Quinn.

He was afraid that nothing was ever going to satisfy him like serving in the military had.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael sprawled wearily on the couch in the semi-darkness of the apartment, nursing an aching head and a glass of whiskey. He’d had just enough energy to take off his suit coat and toe off his shoes before he let his head drop back and his eyes slide closed. Blessed silence surrounded him for the next ten minutes until he heard a key rattle in the lock and the front door open.

“Honey, I’m home.”

The corners of Michael’s mouth quirked. “Hello, dear,” he quipped in reply. He cracked open his eyes as Damien walked toward him, wincing at the throbbing in his temples.

Damien frowned in concern as he sat down next to him, tossing the keys to his new Jeep Wrangler down on the coffee table. “You okay?”

Michael rubbed at his forehead. “Hmm…headache.”

He and Marco had been assigned to some hot, new boy band sensation that was in D.C. for four days giving concerts, signing autographs and doing charity work. Michael never knew how exhausting it could be trying to prevent teenage girls from sneaking into the hotel, the event spaces or just trying to physically grab the singers. He was constantly on his guard. Not to mention he’d had to sit through endless sound checks and concerts played at eardrum-splitting levels. Hence the headache.

Damien ran his fingers softly through Michael’s hair. “Long day, Mikey?”

Michael sighed. “And two more still to go.”

Damien dropped a kiss on the top of his head, then stood and walked out of the living room. A minute later Michael heard water running in the bathroom and then Damien was back. His partner kneeled down in front of him, his hands on Michael’s thighs, spreading his legs apart and moving between them. He leaned in close, his words a whisper.

“Let me help you relax.”

His kiss was gentle and Michael sighed into it, letting Damien explore his mouth for a long minute, his body lying heavily back against the couch. When his partner eased back he undid Michael’s tie and slid it off his neck, unbuttoning the first button on his dress shirt and kissing the side of Michael’s neck.

“Mmmm…” Michael closed his eyes as Damien’s stubble tickled the underside of his jaw.

His partner’s hands moved lower, slowly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, exposing more of Michael’s chest, kissing wetly across the bare skin as he went. He licked across both of Michael’s sensitive nipples and he shivered with pleasure. Shirt completely unbuttoned, Damien’s hands dropped lower to remove Michael’s socks and then his fingers were on Michael’s belt, sliding it free as well. Michael’s cock started paying attention to what was going on when Damien popped the button free on his black pants and slid down the zipper. Damien dipped his head, mouthing at the front of Michael’s boxer briefs and the blood pounding at Michael’s temples instead rushed downwards.

He opened his eyes, brushing his fingers through Damien’s dark hair. “Yeah…”

Damien glanced up, desire in his blue eyes, his fingers curled around the waistband of Michael’s underwear and pants, giving a short tug. Michael lifted his hips in response and Damien slid the garments down and off, tossing them to the side. Damien sat back then, his eyes sweeping over Michael from head to toe. Michael could only imagine how he looked, naked from the waist down, wearing nothing but his shirt, legs spread wide, his cock filling under Damien’s heated gaze.

“Fuck _me_ ,” Damien breathed, running his hands up Michael’s thighs as he bent down.

A moment later Michael’s mouth dropped open with a low moan as Damien’s hot, wet mouth surrounded his cock. His partner worked him expertly—licking, sucking, teasing his cock to full hardness until it was leaking precome.

Michael’s hips twitched restlessly. “So good…”

Damien sank all the way down then hollowed his cheeks as he lifted up, letting Michael’s cock slip from his mouth.

“No…” Michael protested and Damien chuckled as he rose to his feet, holding out his hand to Michael.

“C’mon,” he urged, tugging Michael to his feet.

He kissed Michael long and slow as he slid the shirt from Michael’s shoulders, letting it pool onto the floor. He ran his hands down Michael’s broad back and over the swell of his ass before stepping back and leading Michael to the bathroom.

Michael smiled softly at Damien when he saw the bathtub nearly full, the jets on, the water bubbling, wisps of steam rising from the surface.

Damien undressed quickly and stepped into the tub, sitting down with his back against one end, spreading his legs. He held his hand out to Michael. “C’mere.”

Michael joined him, sitting between his partner’s legs, facing away from him, sighing gratefully as he sank down into the hot water. Damien’s hands came to rest on his shoulders, kneading and massaging the taught muscles. Michael couldn’t help the moan that escaped as his partner’s strong hands worked their magic for long minutes until he drew Michael back against him, Michael’s head resting in the crook of Damien’s shoulder. Damien’s arms came around him briefly, holding him close as he kissed into his hair.

“Feel good?”

“Hmm…” Michael murmured in agreement.

“Just relax,” Damien said, his hands shifting, his fingers rubbing in small circles on Michael’s temples.

Michael’s eyes drifted closed again as he sank back against his partner with a long exhale. He let the hot water and Damien’s fingers work their magic, feeling the tension release from his shoulders and neck, the throbbing in his head easing to be replaced by a throbbing a bit lower, his body reminding him it was left unsatisfied.

“You know,” Michael said with the hint of a grin, “If you really want me to relax you’ll rub something else and finish what you started.”

He heard and felt Damien chuckle against his back. “You mean like this?” he breathed against Michael’s ear, his hands first smoothing over Michael’s chest, thumbs brushing over the flat nipples, then down over his taught abs until one finally curled around Michael’s semi-hard cock.

Michael’s hips bucked up into his touch, his own hands coming to rest on Damien’s thighs. “Yeah,” he exhaled as Damien stroked him, his cock lengthening and hardening against his partner’s palm.

Damien picked up where he left off, with his hand this time instead of his mouth. He stroked Michael slowly at first, then a bit faster, twisting his wrist slightly on the upstroke, rubbing his palm over the swollen head.

“Fuck,” Michael groaned, pressing back into Damien, feeling his heavy balls start to draw up.

“Love the way you feel in my hand,” Damien whispered gruffly.

Michael groaned again, his orgasm building low in his belly. He shifted, draping his legs over Damien’s thighs, opening himself up, feeling the jets of water pulsating against his entrance.

He gasped at the dual sensations of Damien’s hand and the water, his hips pressing up and down.

“Yeah, that’s it…” Damien encouraged, gripping Michael’s cock just a bit tighter as he stroked in counterpoint.

“Just…just like that, just like that…” Michael panted, feeling his climax rushing up from his balls.

“Come for me, Mike…”

And Michael did, shaking against Damien as his cock surged in his partner’s grasp, coming in long, hard pulses under the water.

“ _Damien_ …” he ground out as his release rolled through him.

“I’ve got you,” Damien whispered, caressing Michael’s cock as Michael sagged back against him, spent.

“Needed that, huh?” Damien smiled, rubbing his hand gently over Michael’s chest as Michael’s breathing slowly evened out and he settled.

Michael chuckled, utterly relaxed and pain free. “Remind me to get a headache more often.”

Damien kissed his temple with a smile. “I’ll be your pain relief anytime, Mikey.”

“So how was _your_ day?”

Michael felt his partner’s body tense slightly at his question as Damien shrugged but remained silent. Brows drawing together, Michael shifted so that he could look directly at Damien.

“What is it?”

Damien glanced at him then away with an exhale and another shrug.

“Damien?”

His partner turned back to him, his voice hesitant, as if he was reluctant to share his thoughts with Michael. “Did we make another mistake? Going to work for Quinn? Neither of us are all that thrilled with how this is turning out. Or…I don’t know,” He shook his head. “Maybe my expectations were too high.”

Michael nodded slowly. “Is it going how I thought it would? No,” he agreed. “But we also need to remember we’re low men on the totem pole, so we’re not getting the high profile assignments. Which is how it should be. We’re not Bravo One and Two anymore. We don’t have any seniority. We have to put in our time like everyone else did.”

“So you think we should stick it out?”

“I do. I like Quinn. I like the team. Why don’t we talk again in a couple months? Give it until Christmas.”

“Okay, yeah. I can do that.”

“You know, if this ultimately doesn’t work out for us, Finn mentioned PMC work to me as an option.”

Damien made a face and Michael held up a hand. “I know, I know. Corruption is rampant. But if we do our research we could end up with a good firm. We just need to keep all our options open.”

Damien drew Michael back to him with a sigh and a crooked smile. “We really do make shitty civilians, don’t we?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next morning at the team meeting Damien realized he should be careful what he wished for as things took an interesting turn.

“Okay,” Quinn started off. “Easy stuff first. Drew and Sasha, you’re still on the senator. Michael and Marco, you’re still on the boy band.”

Marco groaned theatrically, dropping his head and clapping his hands over his ears, prompting laughter from around the table.

Quinn held up his hands. “I know, I know! But if it’s any consolation, the band’s manager has been extremely impressed with you and Michael. This city has been the smoothest stop for them, thanks to you two.”

Michael was grateful for the praise and he and Marco exchanged grins and fist bumps.

“Now for you three,” Quinn addressed Damien, Luke and Haley. “We have a new client. Planned Parenthood is opening up a new clinic here in D.C. tomorrow. And unfortunately a whole hell of a lot of people aren’t happy about it. They’re expecting massive protests and they need security for the three doctors and to help keep the peace for at least the first several days after they open.”

Damien shot a sideways glance at Michael and he could instantly tell his partner wished he was in on this one.

“Ace, you’re being assigned to Doctor Maria Gonzales. You’ll pick her up at home tomorrow, get her safely inside the clinic and then take her home in the evening.”

Damien nodded as Quinn slid a piece of paper toward him with Doctor Gonzales’ address and phone number on it, then gave Haley and Luke the information on the doctors they would be protecting.

Quinn’s expression was serious. “Stay vigilant, all of you. If there are Planned Parenthood supporters there as well the protestors may try to escalate the situation and things could turn violent in an instant. But it’s not your responsibility to break anything up. Your priority is to keep the doctors safe and to keep a clear path for legitimate patients to enter and exit the clinic.” He placed his forearms on the conference table. “I’m unsure of what, if any, kind of police presence there will be, so don’t hesitate to call 911 if things get out of hand. Understood? Any questions?”

Damien looked to Luke and Haley, who shook their heads. “We’re good, boss.”

“Okay, no team meeting tomorrow for the three of you since you need to pick up the doctors,” Quinn said, then turned to everyone. “All right, let’s get out there and keep people safe.”

Michael clapped his hand on Damien’s shoulder as they left the conference room. “Well, if excitement’s what you wanted, you’ve got it now, mate.”

Damien grinned in reply, already anticipating what tomorrow would bring. “Oh fuck, yeah.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien groaned in the back of his throat as Michael came deep inside him, followed by his own release splashing down onto the shower floor moments later. He rested his forehead against the cool tiles as Michael kissed the back of his neck, the warm water flowing over them both.

Damien sighed, reaching back to cup Michael’s ass, keeping his partner’s still hard cock inside him for a minute longer. “Now that’s the only way to start the day,” he grinned, lifting his head.

Michael kissed him again then moved back, slowly slipping from Damien’s body. He rested his hands on Damien’s hips as Damien turned to face him.

His hazel eyes held Damien’s gaze. “Watch your ass out there today.”

“I’d rather be watching yours,” Damien smirked in reply.

“That’ll be your reward for coming home with no cuts and bruises.”

“Same goes for you, Mikey. I know how vicious those teenage girls can be,” Damien joked.

Michael’s hands tightened on Damien’s hips. “I’m serious, Damien. Protestors rarely think rationally.”

Damien let the smile slide from his face at his partner’s concern. “I know. I’ll be fine,” he vowed, then sealed his promise with a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~

An hour later Damien pulled up in front of Doctor Maria Gonzales’ house in one of the D.C. suburbs, right on time. He exited the SUV, adjusted his tie and smoothed his hands down the lapels of his black suit jacket and walked up the sidewalk to the front door. He rang the bell and the door opened a minute later. A professional looking woman in her mid-50’s with wavy, shoulder length dark hair and brown eyes stood in front of him with a tentative smile on her face.

“Doctor Gonzales? I’m Damien Barnes from Sentinel Security,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

She nodded and shook, her grip firm. “Yes, just one moment.” She disappeared back inside and returned wearing her jacket, her purse on one shoulder and a white lab coat draped over one arm. She locked up her home and Damien led her to the SUV, opening the front passenger door for her before climbing in the driver’s side.

“Please, call me Maria, Mr. Barnes,” she said, her expression friendly but tense as Damien pulled away from the curb.

“It’s just Damien, ma’am,” Damien replied with a smile.

Maria sighed. “I’m sorry all this is necessary.”

Damien shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I’m happy to help keep you safe for the next few days. I’m just sorry that people don’t understand all the good that Planned Parenthood does, the valuable healthcare services you provide for women who otherwise might not be able to get it. All they focus on is abortion.”

Maria’s eyes widened and her expression softened. “Thank you for your support. I wish everyone was as well-informed as you are.”

“Just keep doing your good work and let word-of-mouth spread. You’ll change minds.”

Maria nodded slowly. “Let’s hope so.”

“In the meantime, let me help get your patients to you safely.”

Maria smiled. “Deal.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien arrived at the clinic just as Luke and Haley did, to find a mass of people gathered in the front of the building, separated by a sidewalk. Protestors were on one side, yelling and shouting, holding signs that read: _Pray to End Abortion, Defund Planned Parenthood, Stop Abortion Now_ and _Planned Parenthood Lies To You_ , while the supporters were on the other side, standing calmly, holding signs that said: _I Stand With Planned Parenthood, Keep Abortion Safe and Legal, I am the Pro-Life Generation, My Body-My Life_ and _Women’s Health Matters._ And in the middle, standing on the sidewalk were two cops, glancing back and forth between the two groups.

Damien, Luke and Haley all found parking spots in the lot on the side of the clinic and got the doctors out, using their bodies to keep them shielded as they ushered them quickly to the front doors. The moment the protestors saw them they began hurling insults, which the doctors stoically ignored, but they did smile over at the supporters who began clapping. Haley’s charge, Doctor William Sanderson, opened the front door and led them all inside.

“Okay,” Damien addressed the three doctors. “Leave everything to us for the rest of the day.”

Luke’s charge, Doctor Allison Jensen, nodded at them. “Thanks again.”

Maria turned to her fellow physicians. “All right, everyone. The rest of the staff will be here shortly and we have appointments starting in 45 minutes. Let’s get to work.”

The doctors moved off into the clinic and Damien, Haley and Luke took a minute to confer. Damien opened his mouth to speak but then closed it, tamping down his desire to take control. He needed to defer to Luke, the senior member of the three of them.

Luke ran a hand through his short, red hair. “Okay. Damien, Haley—you two start off out front, help the staff and the patients in. I’ll rove, make circuits of the building, go up on the roof, check everything out from above. We’ll rotate every hour. Questions? No? All right, let’s do a comms check.”

Damien inserted the earpiece that had been hanging from his shirt collar and turned the radio clipped to his belt to the frequency they would be using.”

“Check, check,” he said and both Haley and Luke nodded.

“Okay.” Haley clapped her hands together, the light brown hair in her ponytail bobbing slightly. “Let’s do this.”

Damien took a breath, his pulse jumping as he stepped back outside.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next two hours were tense, the protestors growing more agitated with each new patient that arrived. Some had no trouble braving the crowd, but some nearly left until either Damien, Luke or Haley escorted them inside. The police were doing an adequate job keeping the groups separated, but the protestors kept trying to edge closer to the supporters, trying to draw them into a physical altercation, Damien was certain. But to their credit, the supporters were not rising to the bait.

Damien’s eyes, hidden behind this sunglasses, never stopped moving, assessing the situation minute by minute, ready to react at a moment’s notice. Michael was right. This was the excitement he’d been wanting.

He glanced down at his watch. It was time for him to relieve Haley, who was on the roving patrol. As he looked back up he spied a car pulling up with more protestors. His sixth sense tingled as he watched them exit the vehicle. They looked…off, compared to the protestors already gathered. More like…hired muscle.

He keyed his comm. “Heads up. I think we’ve got trouble. Four males, dark hoodies, starting to circulate through the protestors. Keep an eye on them.”

Luke and Haley’s voices were in his ear a moment later.

_“Copy.”_

_“Copy.”_

Damien’s eyes darted through the crowd, trying to keep watch on all four of them. He caught Haley in his peripheral vision, walking toward him to switch rotations when it happened. Two of the four men in hoodies suddenly shouted and charged over the sidewalk, heading for the supporters, several other protestors following right behind.

Chaos instantly ensued as the police tried to intervene. Shouts and screams filled the air as violence erupted right in front of Damien. He knew they weren’t supposed to get involved, but he couldn’t stand by and watch innocent people take a beating when he could do something to prevent it.

But just as he was about to dart into the melee, he caught a bright glint of sunlight reflecting off of something shiny out of the corner of his eye, to his left, away from the crowd. He snapped his head in that direction instantly, pulse spiking, all too familiar with sunlight glinting off the scope of a rifle.

But it wasn’t a rifle. It was a clear bottle filled with fluid being held in the hand of one of the other men in hoodies who was standing at the very back of the crowd, turned toward the clinic. And hanging out of the bottle was a rag. And in the man’s other hand was a lighter.

Molotov cocktail.

The realization slammed into Damien with the force of a freight train. This was their plan—cause a distraction and then firebomb the clinic while everyone’s attention was elsewhere.

Damien’s first instinct was to call for Michael, Julia and Kim. But his Bravo Team was no more. Instead he yelled “Contact!” into his comm. to Luke and Haley as he came to a decision in a split second. He felt the weight of his sidearm in its holster under his arm, calling for his attention. But unlike his Section 20 days of “Shoot first, ask questions later”, he hesitated to use it. Not only wanting to avoid using lethal force if he could help it, but fearing a gunshot would cause even more panic.

So instead he forced away concern for his own personal safety—and charged.

Heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins, Damien sprinted toward the man in the hoodie, knowing he only had seconds before the lighter came in contact with the rag.

He almost made it.

The rag caught fire just as Damien barreled into the man at full force. Startled, caught off-guard, the bottle dropped from the man’s grip as Damien took them both down hard to the ground. Horrified, Damien could only watch as the bottle hit the pavement, expecting to see a fireball as the glass bottle shattered. But miraculously, the impact wasn’t hard enough from that height to break the bottle. The flammable liquid, however, did spill out in a fiery arc on the concrete.

The man beneath Damien immediately began to struggle to get away, but there was no way in hell Damien was going to let that happen, and the fight was on. Punches flew as they tussled, rolling on the ground, each trying to get the upper hand. Out of the corner of his eye he spied Haley running toward him.

“Get a fire extinguisher!” he shouted as he was finally able to flip the man facedown.

“I’m on it!” Luke yelled from somewhere behind him as Haley dropped to her knees beside him to assist Damien in subduing the man. In quick order they had his hands secured behind his back with a pair of zip-tie cuffs from the inside pocket of Damien’s suit coat.

He rolled off the man, breathing hard, as Luke rushed past him, fire extinguisher in hand, expertly putting out the flames in a matter of minutes. It was only then that Damien realized they were the center of attention of a large portion of the crowd, phones pointing in their direction, taking photos and videos as several more police officers arrived, lights flashing and sirens wailing from their squad cars.

Haley’s smile was wide as she knocked her fist into Damien’s shoulder. “Nice job, hero.”

Damien blinked, taken aback by a word he wasn’t used to hearing. Everything that Section 20 did was in the shadows. They saved the lives of hundreds of thousands of people from biological weapons, terrorists and nuclear weapons and none of those people ever knew it. No one ever thanked them, let alone called them heroes.

A uniformed police officer rushed up then as Damien got to his feet, dragging the man in the hoodie up with him. The cop took hold of the restrained man with one hand while holding out the other to Damien to shake.

“Thank you,” the officer said to him with gratitude and sincerity.

A smile teased the corner of Damien’s mouth as the cop led the man away. Yeah, he wasn’t going to lie. That felt pretty fucking good.


	10. Chapter 10

The entire team went out for drinks that night at one of the rowdiest pubs Michael had ever been to. He surveyed the noisy crowd as he stood at the bar, waiting for his drinks order, narrowing his focus down to his partner, who was surrounded by people talking to the hero of the day.

Michael took a breath as the events of the day came back to him.

Word had reached Marco and himself quickly about the incident at Planned Parenthood, that Damien had thwarted a firebombing attempt. Michael immediately tried to call his partner but Damien wasn’t answering his phone. Not surprising, considering the chaos the scene must be, but by the fourth failed attempt Michael’s concern was beginning to show. What he didn’t know was that Marco had been making calls of his own, arranging for one of the night shift guys to cover the rest of Michael’s shift with the boy band so that he was free to go check on his partner.

It was a little less chaotic than Michael had been expecting when he arrived, due to the overwhelming police presence now on the scene that had gotten the situation under control. The group of protestors and supporters were still there, everyone being interviewed by uniformed cops and plain-clothed detectives. Various television news crews were on scene as well and Michael had to navigate his way through, eyes searching for Damien. He finally located him standing off to the side with Haley and Luke and not surprisingly, Quinn as well.

Michael released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he saw Damien was indeed in one piece and not a charred body lying on the ground.

“Mike!” Damien called out to him as he approached.

He wanted nothing more than to pull Damien in for a quick embrace, but this wasn’t the time or place for a public display of affection, so he settled for resting his hands on the tops of his partner’s shoulders and squeezing.

“Felt the need to try and light yourself on fire, mate? Can’t leave you alone for a second, can I?”

Michael saw the restrained emotion in Damien’s eyes, acknowledging without words Michael’s concern and what a close call it had been.

Damien smirked and shrugged. “I was bored. Wanted to spice things up a bit.”

Michael shook his head in exasperation, but smiled all the same. “You’re such a bloody tosser.”

And now here they were, hours later, with Damien, Luke and Haley having given their statements to the police, all four of the men in hoodies in custody and all of the doctors and patients at Planned Parenthood safe. And Damien was the center of attention. And loving every minute of it.

Michael didn’t begrudge his partner his moment of fame, of being in the spotlight and being recognized for putting his life on the line. He earned it and he deserved it. It’s not like anyone had ever lined up to shake Section 20’s hands, after all. Michael knew transitioning back into civilian life hadn’t been easy for Damien. He’d been struggling to find his place, a purpose again. Maybe this is what he needed to realize they could still save people, just in a different way now, and give this security job a chance.

The bartender tapped Michael on his shoulder and he turned to see his tray of drinks ready for him.

“Cheers,” he nodded in reply.

He carefully picked his way through the crowd back to the table where Damien and Quinn were sitting and set the tray down. His partner was in the middle of an animated conversation about the day’s events with the rest of the Sentinel Security team who were standing around the table, nodding and smiling, clapping Damien on his back.

“There he is again!” Drew called out, pointing up to one of the many TVs in the bar.

Sure enough, there in living color was Damien, captured by more than one call phone tackling the man in the hoodie, the caption reading _Hero Bodyguard Prevents Firebombing at Planned Parenthood_.

“Can I get your autograph, _hero_?” Sasha swooned theatrically, batting her green eyes at Damien as his cheeks turned pink.

Seeing Damien on the television and all over the internet, it served to validate Michael’s decision to do what he did in London to keep them both safe. His partner caught his attention then, flicking his gaze to the TV and back, tipping his beer bottle toward Michael, his blue eyes serious, mouthing, _“Thank you”_ to him.

Michael tipped his bottle back in reply with a small, warm smile just for Damien. He took a long swallow of the cold beer and clapped his hand on Quinn’s back.

“So I think you promised me some stories about Ace, here,” Michael reminded him.

Quinn lit up and chuckled. “You just sit down right here, Michael, and let me tell you a tale or two!”

And so it went for the next hour, the stories, drinks and laughter flowing freely. While Michael loved hearing about Damien’s exploits in Delta he was sad that his partner had been the unknowing victim of a conspiracy that ripped it all away from him. But at the same time, if Damien hadn’t been discharged from the US military, they never would’ve met. Fate playing a part in bringing them together?

Quinn grew serious as the stories wound down. “I was worried about you after Delta. I’m glad you landed on your feet.”

Damien nodded. “I had some rough years, I’m not gonna lie. But it’s all good now.”

“Did you ever find out anything about who set you up with those drugs?”

Damien gave Michael a quick, sideways glance. “Actually…I did.”

Quinn’s eyebrows rose. “No shit.”

“I had the paperwork in my hand that would’ve cleared my name. And I burned it.”

Quinn’s jaw dropped. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

Damien looked at Michael again. “Because I’d gotten a second chance. And exposing the conspiracy at that point could’ve put that in jeopardy. I knew the truth. And that’s all that mattered.”

Michael could still see the Project Trojan Horse documents going up in flames—what Damien had sacrificed by burning the proof he was innocent of the charges against him. But he chose to protect Grant’s name, and in turn, Section 20’s reputation. And for that Michael would always be grateful.

“Well, I’m just glad it all worked out for you in the end, Ace.”

Damien’s smile was all for Michael. “So am I.”

“Okay!” Quinn threw back a shot of whiskey and smacked Michael on his arm. “Your turn!” He pointed to Damien. “How did this jackass end up working for British Military Intelligence?”

“Just like with the ace up his sleeve, he basically lied and cheated his way into the job,” Michael replied with a barely straight face.

“Hey now, wait just a fucking minute!” Damien interjected.

Michael sat back in his chair, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth. “Oi! You deny you lied about knowing the information we needed?”

Damien squirmed. “Well, no, but…”

Michael held up his hands. ”Then I rest my case!”

Quinn laughed. “But you hired him anyway?”

Michael let the grin break free. “Well, it happened like this…”

Michael gave Quinn an abbreviated version of their Project Dawn mission, making sure to highlight both Damien’s antics and his bravery.

“He actually proved himself useful, so we decided to keep him,” Michael ended with a smirk.

Damien took a shot of whiskey, then dismissed Michael with a flick of his hand. “Youd’ve been lost without me,” he replied, his words slightly slurred now from the amount of alcohol he’d been consuming.

“His modesty is another reason we kept him.”

Damien gave him the finger and Quinn threw his head back with a laugh. “You two make quite the pair.”

“A pair of _what_ is the question,” Michael cracked.

“Hey boss!” Haley and Marco appeared at the table next to Quinn. “Can we borrow these two? A dart board just opened up.”

Quinn waved his hand. “They’re all yours!”

Damien heaved himself to his feet, shooting Michael an amused look. “Oh, bring it on!”

Michael grinned as he stood, then blinked several times, realizing he’d had quite a bit to drink himself.

Marco and Haley led the way and Michael leaned in toward Damien. “They _do_ know I’m British, right? That I’ve been playing darts in pubs since I was in primary school?”

Damien slapped him on his back. “Ha! Apparently not, Mikey, apparently not!”

Marco handed Damien a set of blue darts and Michael watched as a smirk crossed his partner’s face. “So,” he said innocently. “What do you say we put a friendly wager on this? Make it interesting?”

“Hmm…you might want to reconsider that,” Luke smiled as he appeared with Drew and Sasha and a tray of shots and fresh, cold beers. “Haley and Marco are the reigning darts champs and they’re looking for fresh blood.”

Michael struggled to contain his grin. “Oh, I think we’ll take our chances anyway.”

Damien winked and fist-bumped him. “Fuck yeah, buddy!” He turned to Marco and Haley, holding up a dart. “Let’s see who’s got what it takes to find the bullseye.”

Turns out, despite his ever-increasing inebriated state, it was indeed Michael. He and Damien took the raucous, fun but competitive game with ease, though his partner was more of a distraction than anything. Evidently in the mood for something other than darts, he took every opportunity to press up against Michael or discreetly run his hands over various parts of his body until there was a growing warmth in Michael’s pants.

He and Damien pounded back their victory shots to the cheers of their teammates, both Marco and Haley gracious losers, immediately challenging them to a rematch the next time they all went out.

Michael smacked Damien between his shoulder blades. “Go collect our winnings, Ace! I’ll be back in a minute.”

Michael maneuvered his way through the crowd to the bathroom where he relieved himself with a long sigh, his head pleasantly fuzzy. He and Damien hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. The Sentinel team wasn’t Bravo team. No one could ever replace Section 20, but Quinn and the rest of them had become good mates.

The two other men in the restroom with Michael walked out the door as Michael finished his business. He had no more than tucked himself back into his boxer briefs when the door banged open and there was Damien, looking sexy as hell. In the blink of an eye his partner had two fistfuls of his shirt and Michael was unceremoniously pushed up hard against the wall.

“Been wanting to do this for a fucking hour,” Damien growled.

Then his tongue was down Michael’s throat, his groin pressed tight to Michael’s, grinding against him insistently.

Michael’s body immediately got with the program, hands cupping Damien’s ass, holding him firmly against him as his cock swelled inside his now too-tight pants, his tongue sliding against his partner’s. Just when he was ready to pull Damien inside one of the stalls and fuck him senseless, the door opened again and three drunk patrons stumbled in, breaking the moment.

Breathing hard, Michael panted gruffly against Damien’s ear. “Home. _Now_.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It took a lot to get Michael drunk and Damien even more so, but they were both damn close to it by the time the taxi dropped them off in front of their apartment building. Damien kissed him breathless in the elevator, tugging at his clothes and fondling his cock through Michael’s jeans. They stumbled inside their unit and Michael pressed Damien up against the nearest wall, kissing him fiercely for a moment before taking hold of his shirt and giving him a good shake.

“What the _bloody hell_ were you thinking?” he demanded. “Charging a man holding a Molotov cocktail? Were you out of your fucking mind?!”

Damien’s eyes widened. “Like you’ve got any room to talk, buddy! Charging toward a _bomb_ falling from a _ceiling_?!”

That brought Michael up short and he furrowed his bottom lip as he cocked his head. “Point taken.”

There was a quick flash of a self-satisfied smirk on Damien’s lips before they captured Michael’s own and then there was no more talking. Michael slanted his mouth across his partner’s, their tongues tangling together as he pressed his body against Damien’s, picking up where they left off in the bathroom. Damien groaned into the kiss and Michael wedged his thigh between Damien’s legs, pressing against his cock and his partner humped against him, his hips pumping.

“Oh fuck, Mike,” Damien broke the kiss with a hoarse gasp. “Fuck. Don’t make me come in my pants.”

Michael smiled seductively. “Then what do you want? It’s your night, hero. Anything you want.”

Damien cocked an eyebrow. “Anything?”

Michael instantly regretted his choice of words, but before he could take them back, Damien pushed off from the wall, grasping Michael’s wrist, and headed not to the bedroom like Michael was expecting, but through the living room and out onto the balcony, where the city glittered all around them in the dark.

Damien released Michael’s wrist and threw both arms up in the cool autumn air, a drunken smile on his face. “I never want this day to end, then!”

Michael shook his head in amusement. Technically it was 1:30 am, so it was already a new day, but he didn’t have the heart to burst his partner’s bubble. So instead he backed him up against the railing, framed his face with both his hands and sealed their mouths together.

Damien surged up into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Michael, hands moving over his back, drifting down to the swell of his ass. Michael let himself fall into the kiss, drifting along in his inebriated state, everything going fuzzy around the edges in his head.

The kiss became more insistent, heated, Michael’s body ready for more. He wanted to feel Damien on top of him, his partner’s naked skin against his own as they made love.

Damien suddenly broke the kiss and turned Michael around, Michael’s hands now holding onto the balcony railing, Damien pressed fully up against his back, his groin pushing against Michael’s ass, his arousal evident.

“Hmmm…yeah…” Michael pressed his ass back as Damien’s hands came around his waist, fumbling with the button and zipper on Michael’s jeans.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Michael gasped as Damien’s hand dipped down past the waistband of his boxer briefs to cup his heavy balls, rolling them in their sac, tugging gently. Michael tipped his head back against Damien’s. “More…”

Damien kissed wetly along Michael’s jaw as his hand moved upward, curling around Michael’s cock. He’d been half-hard since their groping in the bathroom at the bar, Damien’s touches teasing him and leaving him wanting more. He groaned low in his throat as his cock lengthened and grew against Damien’s palm as his partner stroked him deftly. Michael’s hips twitched, backward against Damien’s groin, forward into his hand. Now who was in danger of coming in his pants?

Damien’s lips were against his ear. “Anything?” he breathed.

Michael’s eyes squeezed closed as his arousal grew hot and fast. “Anything,” he panted.

And then Damien was gone. Michael’s eyes opened in confusion and he looked over his shoulder to see his partner disappear back into the apartment, only to reappear just seconds later, pressed back up against Michael with something in his hand. A familiar tube from the drawer of their coffee table in the living room.

Michael suddenly knew what “anything” meant.

This was a spectacularly bad idea. Even with the walls separating their balcony from their neighbor’s, anyone could still hear them. Or see them from one of the other apartment buildings. Michael wasn’t an exhibitionist.

But Michael was also just drunk enough to let it happen.

So when Damien eased down Michael’s jeans and underwear, he didn’t protest. Instead he pressed back, searching for Damien’s cock as a thrill ran through him at what they were about to do. He heard Damien behind him, stripping off his shirt and the jangle of his belt as he pushed his own pants down. He reached forward, rucking up Michael’s t-shirt and then Michael was surrounded by his partner’s heat as Damien draped his body over his, arms encircling his chest. They both sighed at the contact, holding still for a moment until one of Damien’s hands drifted downward, fingers encircling Michael’s cock once again. He stroked him languidly, easing the foreskin up and down, his grip just tight enough. Michael shivered at the friction, his cock fully hard, pearls of precome leaking from the slit.

“More…” he exhaled, pressing back against Damien’s erection, nestled between his ass.

Damien kissed down his neck and released his cock, moving back just slightly from Michael’s body to return moments later, the blunt tip of his now-slick cock pressing against Michael’s entrance. He expected Damien to take him hard and fast, but his partner did just the opposite. He pushed inside ever so slowly, letting Michael feel every inch as he filled him completely, their quiet groans mingling in the dark.

“So tight…you feel so fucking good, Mike…”

“Love you inside me…”

Damien held him close as he rolled his hips over and over with long, smooth strokes, the swollen head of his cock pushing against Michael’s prostate again and again. Michael closed his eyes and tipped his head back, breath coming in shallow pants, his cock aching for release after so much foreplay and the excitement of having sex on the balcony.

Damien’s rhythm faltered, his hands flexing on Michael’s skin, thrusting a little harder, a little faster, as close to the edge as Michael was. Michael pressed back in counterpoint, taking Damien in as deep as possible, pulling gasps from them both.

Damien’s voice was a low rumble against his ear. “You drive me fucking crazy…”

Michael shivered again, his orgasm begging to be set free, hands gripping the railing hard. “Touch me, Damien…please…” he pleaded.

Two strokes of Damien’s hand was all it took and Michael flew apart. He had to bite his lower lip hard to keep from crying out as he climaxed, his cock pulsing in his partner’s grip, his body constricting around Damien’s erection, buried inside him.

Michael was still coming when Damien buried his face into the back of Michael’s neck, smothering his own moan of completion as his cock throbbed, filling Michael with his release.

Damien held him as they shook, until they slowly settled. Loathe to break their connection, Damien still hard inside him, Michael reached behind him to keep his partner close.

“Mmm…stay,” he whispered.

He felt Damien smile slowly against his skin. “As long as you want, Mike.”

A sudden lump formed in Michael’s throat and he placed his hand over Damien’s where it rested on his chest. “Forever.”


	11. Chapter 11

It was business as usual at Sentinel Security for the next three days, until Quinn called Damien and Michael into his office. They sat down in front of his desk and Quinn addressed Damien first.

“Business has been booming since your little escapade at Planned Parenthood,” he told him and Damien smirked and threw a wink at Michael, who rolled his eyes.

“But let’s not make a habit of that, okay, Ace?” Quinn added, the corners of his mouth quirking.

Damien gave him a cocky salute. “Sure thing, boss.”

Quinn shook his head. “Anyway, we’ve got a new high-profile client and I believe it’s time I paired the two of you up for it.”

_Finally!_ Damien thought, exchanging grins and fist bumps with his partner.

“Who’s the client?” Michael asked.

Quinn flipped open a file folder. “There’s a television show that’s been filming in the D.C. area for about a year now. It’s a Naval drama called _High Tide_. They recently added a gay actor to the cast, playing an out, high-ranking gay military officer.”

Damien exchanged a look with Michael, knowing where this was going.

“The show has made headlines for portraying a gay military officer, but it hasn’t been all rainbows. The casting has also sparked outrage from anti-LGBT groups. There have been threats made against the actor and protestors at the gates of the soundstage where the show films. His home has also been vandalized. So the studio is hiring personal protection for the time being, until things die down. You’ll start tomorrow.”

Damien nodded, disgusted at the small-mindedness of so many people. “Who are we guarding?”

“His name is Christian Traynor-Nash,” Quinn answered. “Age 35, a widower. Lost his husband a year ago. Has been acting since he was a teenager. You’ll also be protecting his son.”

Damien blinked, sitting up straight. “There’s a kid?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Michael shoot him a concerned look as Quinn nodded.

“Name’s Stevie. Ten years-old. Christian has been doing a lot of promotional work for the show, interviews and such, and has been photographed with his son. The same anti-LGBT groups have come out saying that a gay man is unfit as a father, stirring up more hate. Christian is, naturally, concerned for his son’s safety, so you’ll be keeping eyes on both of them.”

Damien swallowed, his thoughts a whirlwind of images of another young boy he’d failed to protect.

He started when Michael lay a hand on his arm. “Damien—“

Damien stood abruptly, cutting him off, holding out his hand for the folder, his voice even. “We’re on it.”

He turned on his heel and strode from Quinn’s office, right out the front door and into the parking lot, Michael right behind him. Damien’s hand patted at his pocket out of habit, searching for a pack of cigarettes that hadn’t been there in months.

“Shit,” he cursed, coming to a stop next to their SUV.

Michael’s hand was on his arm again. “Damien. I know what’s going through your head, mate. We can pass on this assignment.”

Damien met his gaze, seeing compassion and understanding in his hazel eyes. Damien gave a short, sharp shake of his head. “No. Maybe I can redeem myself by keeping this kid safe.” He yanked open the passenger side door. “But first I need a fucking drink.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The nightmare came that night, as he knew it would, helpless to stop it…

_Car bombs were not Damien’s style._

_He much more preferred an up close and personal kill, or pulling the trigger on a long gun._

_But watching someone get blown to pieces? That was definitely Christy Bryant’s style._

_So Damien did her bidding once again—sneaking into the gated villa in the middle of the night and planting the bomb on the flashy BMW, rigged to the ignition._

_Now all they had to do was wait on the top of this hill overlooking the house until their target came out, heading to work, and turned the key._

_Mission accomplished._

_But their target wasn’t the only one that came out of the house and headed to the car that morning. So did his ten year-old son._

_Damien’s heart stopped as the boy bounded toward the car, dressed in his school uniform, backpack slung over one shoulder. Throat gone dry, he rounded on Christy._

_“Did you know?” he demanded._

_She gave him a dispassionate shrug, her eyes cold and dark. “Does it matter?”_

_Sickened at her callousness, horrified at the needless death he was about to cause, too far away to stop it, Damien shoved himself to his feet. Unable to watch, bile churning in his stomach, he turned away as an explosion lit up the morning, swinging his fist wildly at the closest tree._

_“NO!”_

“NO!”

Damien shouted himself awake, sitting up in bed, shaking, sweating. Hands on his shoulders and he reached out, still caught in the vestiges of the nightmare.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, a tear breaking free. “Daniel, I’m sorry…”

He was pulled into an embrace. “Damien. It’s okay. You were having a nightmare.”

Damien blinked, his surroundings coming into focus, the hillside fading away to be replaced by his semi-dark bedroom. “Mike?” he asked, voice thick.

“Yeah, mate, it’s me,” his partner whispered, moving back just slightly.

Damien swiped at his face. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Michael shook his head, running his fingers soothingly through Damien’s short hair. “Don’t apologize.”

Damien leaned into the touch with a shaky sigh, closing his eyes, letting Michael draw him back down, his head resting in the crook of Michael’s shoulder. He wrapped an arm around his partner’s chest as Michael’s arm pulled him close, hand slowly rubbing up and down Damien’s back. His voice was quiet in the dark.

“Will you ever be able to forgive yourself for his death?”

Damien swallowed hard. “No,” he said simply. “Because only monsters kill children.”

“Bollocks. You’re no monster, Damien.”

Damien huffed out a breath. “Yeah, how do you know that?”

Michael leaned back so that he could look at Damien. “Because the few times you’ve been able to speak about this it’s torn you up. Christy Bryant was the monster. She got inside your head. Twisted you, manipulated you into believing what you were doing was right.”

“And a child died because I let her,” Damien replied bitterly.

Michael sighed, his eyes soft with compassion. He brushed his thumb across Damien’s cheek. “I wish I could take that pain from you.”

“You can’t,” Damien answered around his tears, an ache in his chest. He cupped the side of Michael’s face as he leaned in close. “But you can help me forget. Chase away my demons, Mike. Just for a little while…”

Damien closed his eyes as their lips touched, as Michael surrounded him with his warmth, his strength. He let his mind go blessedly blank as Michael touched him, kissed him, moved deep within him, vanquishing the darkness with the light of his unconditional love, that Damien sometimes doubted he deserved.

And as he shattered in Michael’s arms, his partner holding him close, taking away his guilt and grief, he knew there would be no more nightmares. For now.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next afternoon Damien drove them out to Chevy Chase, Maryland, where Christian Traynor-Nash lived. It was an affluent, up-scale neighborhood and although Christian’s home was large, it was also modest in appearance. Pots of flowers lined the driveway and tall, mature trees decked out in their autumn colors dotted the property, which backed up against wooded parkland. A bike and skateboard were leaned up against the garage door, a portable basketball net next to it.

It was quiet, peaceful. Until you looked closer and saw smears of red spray paint on the garage door that hadn’t quite washed off. Or the remnants of egg shells on the porch steps. Damien’s keen eyes didn’t miss either and a quick glance at his partner as they walked up to the front door confirmed Michael hadn’t either.

Damien rang the bell and as soon as the door opened it was obvious why Christian had gone into acting. He possessed the classic good looks that would make both women and men swoon—well over six feet tall, green eyes, thick chestnut brown hair cut short and the physique of an athlete.

His smile was warm as he greeted Damien and Michael. “You must be from Sentinel Security. Quinn Hollister said you’d be here today.” He stepped aside and ushered them into his home. “Please, come in.”

Damien and Michael nodded and walked inside. Damien glanced around as Christian led them to the living room. It was a comfortable, welcoming space filled with traditional furniture, hardwood floors and tall windows that filled the rooms with sunlight.

When they reached the living room Damien held out his hand to Christian. “Damien Barnes. And this is my partner, Michael Stonebridge.”

Christian nodded as he shook their hands. “Nice to meet you both. Thank you for helping out with this…situation.”

“We met with your manager and two of the studio executives this morning,” Michael said. “They showed us the threatening letters and emails you’ve been receiving.”

Christian waved his hand. “I could care less about those. I’ve lived with being the target of homophobia since I was a teenager. I can handle it. It’s my _son_ I’m concerned about. Did they show you the photos someone sent of me walking him to and from school? And the vandalism to the house?” He ran a hand over his face. “Some sicko knows where we live, where Stevie goes to school. _That_ is terrifying to me. I had an alarm system installed here.” He threw up his arms in frustration. “And all because I’m playing a gay naval officer? It’s ridiculous.”

“I agree. But nevertheless, that’s why we’re here,” Damien said. “To keep you both safe.”

Michael took a few steps toward the fireplace, picking up one of the framed photographs from the mantle. “Your husband and son?”

A small smile graced Christian’s face. “Jack and Stevie.”

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Damien said softly.

There was sadness in Christian’s eyes when he looked at Damien. “Thank you. It’s been over a year since Jack died, but I still miss him everyday. We were together for twelve years. Cancer is an evil son-of-a-bitch.”

“Stevie looks like him,” Michael observed.

Christian nodded. “When we decided to start a family we went back and forth between surrogacy and adoption. We settled on surrogacy. We used Jack’s sperm.” His expression turned wistful. “Stevie is all I have left of Jack. I see him every time I look at my son.”

“How was that experience, using a surrogate?” Michael asked.

Christian’s smile was bright. “It was amazing. Being there every step of the way, especially at his birth. I’ll cherish it always. I’m glad it’s what we decided on.”

Michael nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful and it made Damien take notice.

“So what have you told your son about us?” Damien asked.

“After Jack died, I hired a housekeeper, Hannah, to look after Stevie,” Christian began. “As an actor, my hours can be long and unpredictable. Hannah would take him to and from school when I couldn’t, fix him dinner, pick up around the house. I told Stevie yesterday that Hannah was going on vacation for two weeks and someone new was going to be filling in. And I really did send her down to Florida to visit her family. The studio regularly sends a driver for me, so he won’t think anything of having one of you driving me.” He took a breath. “I hope you understand why I didn’t tell him who you really are and why you’re really here. I brushed off the vandalism as kids in the neighborhood just messing around. I can’t have him scared. He’s already been through so much—moving here from New York, losing Jack…”

“It’s all right, we understand,” Michael replied.

“We do need to take the proper measures to ensure both your and Stevie’s safety, though,” Damien added. “Michael is going to be driving you, taking you to the studio, any other filming locations, to any press interviews you have. He’ll always be watching you. And he’ll be armed as per our protocols since death threats have been made against you.”

Christian nodded. “And Stevie? I’m not comfortable with you wearing a gun around him. And what if he sees it? You’re supposed to be his babysitter.”

“Don’t worry,” Damien replied. “Since I’ll be driving him to and from school, and waiting there throughout the day, I’ll have my firearm locked in the glove compartment. And I’m also going to have one placed somewhere here in the house in a lockbox where I can access it if need be. The keys will never be out of my sight,” he reassured Christian.

“It still makes me nervous, but I want Stevie protected at all costs.”

“I’ll be with Stevie until you’re back home, no matter what time it is,” Damien told him. “Then overnight we’ll have at least one man in a car outside across the street.”

“Is the school aware that Damien will be dropping off and picking up Stevie instead of you or Hannah? And sitting outside all day?” Michael asked.

“They are. I had a meeting with them yesterday, explained the situation. Quinn sent over your photos, which I showed them. You’ll just need to introduce yourself,” he told Damien.

“Will do,” Damien said. “Speaking of introductions…?”

Christian nodded then left the living room and walked over to the flight of stairs leading up to the second level of the home.

“Stevie!” he called up. “Can you come down here, please?”

There was a moment of silence then the sound of a door opening and light footsteps crossing a hallway and then down the stairs.

Damien’s chest twinged when the young boy appeared, a flash of another young boy overlaying him for a brief second. Though Stevie and Daniel looked nothing alike—Daniel with his dark hair and olive skin and Stevie with an unruly mop of light brown hair, blue eyes and fair coloring, his face dotted with a sprinkling of freckles. The resemblance to Jack was unmistakable. He was dressed in jeans, a red and blue striped t-shirt and white socks. He eyed Damien and Michael warily and stuck close to Christian’s side as his father led him into the living room.

Damien went down on one knee and held out his hand, which Stevie tentatively shook. “Hey little man, I’m Damien. I’m going to be helping out while Hannah’s on vacation.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “And that’s Michael. He’s going to be driving your dad around.”

Michael held up his hand with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Stevie.”

Stevie nodded. “Hi,” he said shyly.

“Want to take me around the house, show me your room?” Damien asked Stevie.

Stevie looked up at Christian and his father smiled down at him and nodded.

Stevie shrugged, not quite meeting Damien’s eyes. “Okay.”

“Were you up there doing homework?” Damien said as he stood.

Stevie shook his head. “Playing a video game.”

“I love video games,” Damien said with a grin, following Stevie from the living room. “What are you playing?”

Stevie shrugged again. “A soldier game.”

“Cool! I used to be a soldier.”

Stevie went stock-still at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide, his face lighting up, his entire demeanor changing. “You _were_?” he said in awe. “Really?”

“Really,” Damien smiled.

“Oh wow! I bet you can help me beat this level then!” he said excitedly, grabbing Damien’s hand and tugging him up the stairs.

Damien chuckled and looked back at Christian and Michael, throwing a wink at his partner, who shook his head with a smile, while Stevie’s father wore an expression of pleasant surprise.

And Damien vowed right then and there as he followed this innocent child that over his dead body would any harm come to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien had just loaded the last of the pots and pans from dinner into the dishwasher when Michael walked into the kitchen. He rested a hip against the counter and smiled at Damien.

“Glad to see you and Stevie got along swimmingly today.”

Damien nodded. “He’s a great kid.” He sighed. “There’s a lot of sadness in him, though. Too much for a kid that young.”

Michael’s smile slid away. “Christian, too. Jack’s death has really taken its toll on him. They’re still hurting.” He stepped forward and rested a hand just above Damien’s hip, his voice quiet. “We both know what it’s like to lose someone we love.” He rubbed his thumb against Damien’s shirt. “And how close we’ve come to losing each other.”

Damien’s breath hitched and he cupped the side of Michael’s face. He leaned in close. “Never gonna leave you, Mike,” he whispered.

Michael closed the distance between them, answering him without words and Damien fell into his partner’s warm, comforting kiss, his touch, his taste. His…everything.

Their mouths moved slowly against one another’s for long moments and Damien tugged Michael closer, his partner’s arms winding around him, holding him in a gentle embrace. Damien hummed into the kiss in contentment and Michael sighed.

“Take me to bed,” he breathed against Damien’s lips.

They were in their room in just a few steps, undressing each other slowly, hands caressing bare skin, exchanging lingering kisses, both of them hard by the time they eased down onto the bed, wrapped in one another’s arms.

There was no foreplay, no teasing tonight. Just the need to be as close as they possibly could. Damien eased inside Michael, enveloped in tight heat and his partner arched up into him, head pressing back into the pillow, eyes fluttering closed as Damien filled him completely.

Damien leaned down, bracing himself on his forearms so that he could cover Michael’s body with his own, completing their connection, skin to skin. They kissed as they made love, as Damien thrust long and slow and deep. They swallowed down each other’s soft moans as their bodies rocked together, over and over, taking one another higher and higher, until they fell over the edge.

Damien’s climax rolled through him in a long wave, stealing his breath as he filled Michael with slick, wet heat. His partner groaned sharply beneath him, spilling his release between their bodies a moment later.

Damien buried his head into Michael’s chest as their bodies shuddered, Michael’s hands running soothingly over his back.

“Love you,” Michael whispered as they settled.

Damien lifted his head and threaded his fingers through Michael’s short hair, kissing him in reply, holding him close until he slipped from his partner’s body. Michael rolled Damien onto his back and rested his head in the crook of Damien’s neck, an arm draped across his chest, their legs tangled together.

They lay in comfortable silence for several minutes, fingers trailing idly over bare skin until Damien broke the quiet.

“We can use your sperm.”

Michael’s fingers stopped and he raised his head, brows drawn together in confusion. “What?”

“That question about the surrogate,” Damien said. “That wasn’t just you making conversation. I saw the look on your face.” He ran a hand up Michael’s arm. “I know that despite what Kerry put you through, making you choose between her and having a family and Section 20, you really wanted to be a father.”

The sudden emotion on Michael’s face made Damien’s heart skip a beat.

“You and Finn, you’re my family,” Michael replied.

Damien nodded. “I know we are. But now that I know what being a father is like… I want you to have that, too.” He brushed a thumb across Michael’s cheek, his words thick with his own emotion. “I’d love to have a kid with you, Mike. If you want that, too.”

Michael went still, his eyes wide, his throat working. “I think… I think that’s something I’d really like to talk more about. But later. After we’ve truly gotten ourselves settled. We might stay with Sentinel, we might not. We need to be sure we’re ready to raise a child.”

“Okay. Yeah,” Damien agreed, part of him disappointed that Michael hadn’t said yes, but at the same time knowing his partner’s logic was sound, as always.

Michael lightly squeezed his hand. “But I do, Damien.” He swallowed again, his hazel eyes bright with moisture. “Nothing would make me happier than having a child with you.”

Damien’s heart swelled and tears pricked his eyes as well. Civilian life was changing him, making him soft. But he didn’t fucking care. Not if it meant the future he was envisioning for himself and Michael.

He pulled his partner close. “Then let’s get settled.”


	12. Chapter 12

Christian had an early call time the next morning, so they arrived shortly before 6:30 am, Michael dressed in his Men in Black outfit and Damien in casual clothes befitting a babysitter, carrying a handgun lockbox. Christian opened the door for them before they had a chance to ring the bell and invited them in.

“Stevie’s still asleep,” he told them quietly, then looked at Damien. “His alarm will go off in about a half hour and he starts school at 9:00.”

Damien patted his pocket. “I’ve got his schedule. What can I make him for breakfast? Any favorites? And lunch?”

“Lunch is provided at the school. And he’s not a picky eater. Pancakes and waffles are his favorite but you don’t need to go to all that trouble. Cereal or oatmeal will be fine.”

Michael chuckled as Damien raised his hand. “I’ve got it covered.”

“Damien is quite the cook,” Michael interjected.

“Well, if it’s not a bother… You weren’t hired to be our housekeeper, after all.”

“I’m a man of man talents,” Damien grinned and Michael rolled his eyes.

“We should get going,” Michael said to Christian.

Christian nodded. “Let me grab my things.” Then he paused. “Thank you for this. For watching out for my son.”

Michael touched his arm. “Don’t worry about anything.” He looked at Damien. “He’s in good hands.”

Christian gave them both a small smile and moved over to the table in the entryway to gather up what he needed for the day.

“Hey.” Damien stepped closer to Michael. “Someone once told me that protestors rarely think rationally.”

Michael’s mouth quirked. “Smart bloke.”

“Smart _ass_ , maybe,” Damien retorted.

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, amused. “I seem to remember that advice saving your ass.”

Damien turned serious. “Just watch your back, Mikey. And his.”

The grin slid from Michael’s face. “Copy that.”

A fist bump sealed the deal and Damien stepped back to see Christian watching them with a curious expression.

“Ready?” Michael asked.

“Umm, yeah,” Christian replied, slipping his jacket on as Michael opened the door.

“I’ll keep in contact with Michael throughout the day,” Damien assured Christian as he and Michael stepped outside.

He watched until the SUV drove off down the street before closing the front door and setting the alarm with the code Christian had provided them with yesterday. He immediately set about looking for a place to put the lockbox that would be accessible to him and out of Stevie’s reach. He finally settled on the top shelf of one of the bookshelves in the living room that he doubted the young boy paid any attention to.

That task accomplished, he took off his own jacket and hung it on one of the hooks near the front door, then made his way into the kitchen. He set about looking through the pantry and refrigerator, happily discovering Christian had everything on hand to make waffles and bacon. He gathered everything up, plus two additional ingredients, and started getting everything ready for when Stevie came downstairs.

And half an hour later his young charge appeared, wearing his school uniform—black slacks and shoes, white dress shirt and maroon blazer and tie, carrying one of his text books.

“Perfect timing, little man!” Damien greeted him as Stevie took a seat at the kitchen island where Damien had set up silverware, a glass of orange juice and a bottle of syrup.

Stevie regarded him silently, and it was obvious from his expression he was still trying to figure out his new babysitter.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Damien grinned and presented Stevie his plate with a flourish.

Stevie’s eyes widened almost comically at the waffle that was not only sprinkled with chocolate chips, but dotted with whipped cream as well. He looked up at Damien with awe and Damien knew that this was clearly not the way Stevie usually ate his waffles.

“Really?”

“Sure, why not?” Damien smiled then leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But let’s not tell your dad, okay?” he winked.

Stevie’s answering grin was wide and he tucked into his breakfast with gusto. Damien joined him with his own waffle, sans the dessert toppings, but with an extra helping of bacon. Stevie flipped open his textbook as he ate, studying several pages.

“What’ve you got going on there?” Damien asked.

“History test today,” Stevie answered.

“Here,” Damien said, sliding the book towards him. “Let me quiz you.”

Ten minutes later the waffles were gone and Stevie had answered nearly every question correctly.

Damien shut the textbook. “Dude, you got this,” he said and Stevie smiled at the praise.

“So your dad said you moved here about six months ago. How do you like your new school?”

The smile faded from Stevie’s face. “It’s okay.”

“Making friends?”

Stevie shrugged. “Some.”

The sadness was back in his voice and Damien tried to dispel it. “Yeah, I know how it is. When I was in the military I moved around a lot. It’s hard starting over.” He leaned in. “But instead of thinking about what you left behind, think of all the new adventures ahead of you. All of the new people you’re going to meet, the new friends you’ll make. It doesn’t have to be a sad thing.”

Stevie nodded slowly but didn’t speak, but Damien could see the wheels turning in his head and he hoped he’d take his words to heart.

“Okay,” Damien smiled. “You go brush your teeth and get your jacket while I clean this up and we’ll get you to school.”

They were out the door a short time later. Even though the weather was nice enough to walk, Damien chose to drive Stevie. No need to expose him to any potential danger or spying eyes outside.

“Cool car,” Stevie said as he hopped into the Jeep and buckled his seatbelt.

“Yeah?” Damien replied as he pulled out of the driveway. “Maybe I’ll let you drive sometime,” he teased.

Wilmot Academy was a small private school that serviced Kindergarten through 8th grade students. Since Damien needed to go into the school to introduce himself and was not just dropping Stevie off, he needed to identify himself to the security guard at the gate to gain access to the parking lot.

He pulled the Jeep into a spot and followed Stevie up to the front doors, where they both needed to pass through metal detectors. It saddened Damien that such security measures were needed, so unlike his own school experiences growing up. Stevie led him to the main office just as the morning bell rang.

“I’ll see you at 3:00,” Damien told him. “And good luck on that test.”

“Thanks!” Stevie smiled and jogged off down the hallway to his classroom.

Damien entered the office and had a brief conversation with both the principal and the head of security, outlining his purpose for being with Stevie and that he would be a presence outside of the school during the day. A child with a bodyguard was not an everyday occurrence for the school, but they took the safety of the children seriously, and Damien was soon on his way back outside.

He pulled the Jeep out of the parking lot and found a spot on a side street where he could watch the main entrance. But first he made a slow walking circuit of the perimeter of the school, noting the high fence that surrounded it and watching the guard at the front gate for several minutes as he checked in a few cars.

Reconnaissance done, he made his way back to the Jeep and settled in to wait, his eyes constantly roving, watching for anyone suspicious that could be a threat to Stevie.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Christian’s leg started bouncing nervously shortly after Michael pulled out of his driveway, so Michael did his best to try and distract him from worrying about his son.

“I meant to tell you yesterday, but you have a beautiful home.”

Christian turned from looking out the window. “Oh, thanks. But it’s a rental. As an actor you never know how long you’ll be on a show. Could be one year, could be ten. So it’s not always a wise investment to buy right away when you relocate to a new city.”

“You said you came here from New York?”

“Yeah. I was working on a cable TV show there for five years. The network let us know ahead of time we were going to be canceled at the end or our current year, so I started looking for other work.” He paused, glancing out the window. “But then Jack got sick and I stopped working to take care of him.” He took a breath and looked back at Michael. “After he died I started auditioning again, then moved Stevie and I out here after I landed a small part in a movie filming in the area. Then after that wrapped I got the job on _High Tide_ ”. He paused again, his voice quiet. “It was really hard on Stevie, losing Jack and then me taking him away from his school and all his friends that he’d known since he was in kindergarten. And now all this…” He shook his head.

“It’s okay,” Michael reassured him. “Stevie’s in good hands. Damien’s got a way with kids.” He grinned. “Probably because he’s not that far removed himself.”

That got a chuckle out of Christian. He took a breath and blew it out. “I just hate that these people have brought my son into all of this.”

“I know this is all disconcerting right now, but I truly believe this will all blow over in a few weeks. Something, or someone else will come along that riles these people up and they’ll move on. Protestors can have short attention spans, especially when they’re not getting what they want right away.” He glanced from the road to Christian. “And it doesn’t sound like you or the studio is backing down?”

Christian shook his head. “No. This is a ground-breaking character that I’m proud to play. And I know I haven’t mentioned it, but there’s also been a hell of a lot of support from the gay community, which I’m extremely grateful for.” His fist clenched in his lap. “But if anything more happens regarding Stevie, I’ll leave the show. He’s more important than any acting job.”

Michael was impressed by Christian’s dedication to his son. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Try and think positive,” he smiled.

Christian nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.” He raised his script. “Sorry, need to go over my lines for the day.”

“Absolutely. Go right ahead.”

The car fell quiet, and in the silence Michael’s mind wandered back to last night, trying to process everything that happened between he and Damien. He had been absolutely rocked to his core by his partner’s sudden suggestion they start a family together. He really hadn’t thought Damien would pick up on anything with his question to Christian about using a surrogate. It just…came out of him, before he realized what he was going to say, looking at Stevie and Christian and Jack in that picture. How happy they were, reminding him of almost becoming a father himself.

He knew Damien was disappointed he hadn’t said ‘yes’, but what he said about Kerry had stopped him. He never wanted to be in that position again, having to choose between family and job. He knew he could have both. But like he told Damien, not until they were truly settled and knew without a doubt they could balance both.

A feeling of warmth spread through him at an image of he and Damien walking, holding the hands of a child between them, Finn next to them all.

Family.

He was pulled from his musings a short time later when they arrived at the studio, and he had second thoughts about telling Christian it was all going to be all right once he got a look at the large group of protestors outside the gates, some dressed in military uniforms. Michael was extremely saddened at the amount of hate directed at someone’s sexual orientation. What people did in the privacy of their own bedrooms was no one else’s business. It literally affected no one else. Yet these bigots were up in arms over a _television character_ , threatening the actor as if they couldn’t separate fiction from reality. Then again, by the looks of some of them, that might be true. And that made them potentially dangerous.

To his credit, Christian didn’t react besides the tightening of his jaw, sitting back against his seat, staring straight ahead, ignoring the signs and shouted insults. He visibly relaxed after they drove through the gates, shoulders lowering, exhaling a long breath. He shook his head as if to clear it, then turned to Michael.

“Ready to see what being an actor is like?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Turns out being an actor was a lot of “hurry up and wait” and in that respect wasn’t a whole hell of a lot different than the military before a mission began, so Michael could relate. But he had to say, Christian was clearly born to be an actor. He might be new to the show, but he was a commanding presence on set, especially wearing his Naval officer uniform. Michael had no doubt he was more than a few gay man’s wet dream.

Michael kept to the background as he observed filming. The studio was considered a safe space for Christian, but it wouldn’t be the first time to discover someone had infiltrated an organization in order to cause harm or wreak havoc, so Michael was on his guard at all times.

By the time lunch was called, Michael was looking forward to the break. He’d had no idea the amount of people it took to film a television show, a constant stream of bodies moving about that he had to keep an eye on as they came and went from Christian’s vicinity.

Michael gave a quick call to Quinn as Christian was finishing up, checking in with the boss, letting him know there had been no issues. Since Christian’s hours were unpredictable, both he and Damien would miss the morning meetings.

When Christian walked off set and over to him, Michael suggested they eat lunch in Christian’s trailer, a more controlled environment for Michael instead of being in a crowd near craft services. Christian agreed and they loaded up their plates and made their way across the lot to Christian’s spacious trailer.

They sat down at the table and began eating the various items they’d chosen. After only a few bites Michael’s eyebrows rose.

“Wow, do you always eat this well?”

Christian smiled. “There are some perks to being an actor.”

“I have to say, I was really impressed, watching you,” Michael told him.

“Thanks, I appreciate that. I’ve always enjoyed acting. Started doing it when I was just a kid, wanting to be in every school play. And I’ve gotten incredibly lucky that I was able to make my dream come true.” He tipped his head. “Quinn mentioned you and Damien are both ex-military. How long were you in the service?”

“Since I left school,” Michael answered. “Pretty much the same with Damien. We recently retired.”

Christian leaned forward. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Michael grinned. “Try me.”

“Are you and Damien…more than work partners?”

Michael laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

Christian grinned. “Not really. But listening to you both yesterday and this morning, you seem very…comfortable, easy with each other. Your vibe said more than friends to me.”

“Well, you’d be right. We were in the same unit. We’ve known each other for quite some time. But our…intimate relationship is a fairly recent development.”

Christian’s eyes widened. “Wow! Okay, I was wrong about that, then.”

“Wrong about what?”

“I thought you’d been together for a hell of a lot longer. You kind of project ‘old married couple’,” he teased.

Michael smiled. “I’ve spent more time with Damien than anyone else in a long while, so yeah, it does feel that way sometimes.”

They continued eating for a few minutes, Michael’s gaze roving around the interior of Christian’s trailer. It was both comfortable and functional and he could see evidence that Stevie spent some time here, too. A photo of Christian and Jack on the desk to his left caught his eye and he pointed at it.

“Tell me about Jack?” he asked. “How did you meet?”

Christian reached over and picked up the picture, his smile a mixture of sadness and love. “We’re both originally from Chicago,” he began. “We met through a mutual friend at a party. I was getting started in my acting career and Jack was a stock broker. We just…hit it off. It got serious pretty quick, but then I got offered a job out in California. It was a turning point when Jack said he’d move out there with me. All he needed was a computer to do his job. He followed me all over, wherever the work took me. We got married as soon as it was legal.”

He gave a small chuckle. “We played rock-paper-scissors to decide whose last name would come first.”

Michael grinned. “Damien and I have played that game several times. And he always loses.”

“You know, so did I, put I just kept playing! Actually, I’m very glad I lost when we decided to start a family three years later and had to decide whose sperm we were going to use. Jack’s still with me in Stevie.”

He brushed his thumb across Jack’s face. “He was an amazing father. Always there for Stevie when I was off working. They were incredibly close. But he didn’t have nearly enough time with him. _We_ didn’t have nearly enough time.”

Michael’s heart ached for both Christian and Stevie. “I know how hard it is to lose someone. I was married, too. My wife, Kerry…” he hesitated for a split second. “…died, too.”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“My grief and anger were all-consuming for a long time. And then…Damien was there. And our friendship turned into something more.”

“I’m glad for you,” Christian replied sincerely.

“I hope you’ll find someone special again, too. I know you can’t contemplate it now, but keep your heart open. I think Jack would want both you and Stevie to never forget him, but to be happy, too.”

Christian’s eyes shone with unshed tears and he cleared his throat. “Did you and Kerry have children?”

Michael felt the familiar ache of loss and he shook his head. “No. No, we didn’t. But Damien has a 16 year-old son, Finn. He’s become my family, too.”

Christian’s smile was genuine. “That’s great.”

Michael’s phone rang and he fished it out of his pants pocket, seeing Damien’s name on the display. “Speak of the devil,” he said to Christian as he answered. “Oi. Bravo Two,” he greeted his partner. “Sit-rep?”

He listened as Damien gave him a brief rundown of his day so far and then Michael did the same.

“I’ll give you a call when we’re on our way back from the studio,” he finished. “Yeah. Copy that.”

Michael ended the call and set his phone down on the table. “Everything’s fine,” he told Christian. “Stevie’s at school, Damien is sitting outside. He hasn’t seen anyone lurking about.”

Christian nodded, looking relieved. “Thanks for keeping me informed.”

“Of course.”

Christian furrowed his brow. “Bravo Two?”

“Our old call signs,” Michael explained. “Some habits are hard to break.”

“I should really pick your brain about the inner workings of the military.”

“Anytime. I actually started my career in the SBS, the British equivalent of the American Navy.”

“I would definitely love to hear about that! But first,” Christian put his uniform hat back on. “Back to work playing at soldiers.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien ended the call with Michael and tucked the phone back in his pants pocket after checking the time. Stevie should be finishing up with lunch and be outside for recess next. Sure enough, he heard the bell ring and a minute later a stream of children surged out the side door of the school, laughing and running. He watched as most of the girls gathered into groups to talk or play on the swings or monkeybars on the playground, while the boys headed for the sports equipment and started forming teams.

He spied Stevie hanging back from everyone, sitting by himself on a bench, and once again Damien was struck with the young boy’s loneliness. But then two boys ran up to him, clearly asking him to join them in their game of kickball. Damien’s smile turned into a frown though when Stevie declined and the boys jogged away.

With a heavy sigh Damien got out of the Jeep and walked down the street and over to the fence, the fallen leaves crunching under his boots.

“Stevie!” he called out, raising his hand.

Stevie turned his head toward him, obviously surprised to see him and ran over.

“What are you doing here?”

“Was just out for a walk,” Damien lied, hoping Stevie didn’t see the Jeep parked up the block. “Thought I’d stop by during your recess and find out how your history test went.”

Stevie smiled. “I got an A-.”

“Way to go, little man!” Damien high-fived Stevie through the fence, then indicated the kickball game. “Don’t you want to go play with the other kids?”

Stevie’s smile faded and he looked down with a shrug, stuffing his hands in his pockets, scuffing the toe of his shoe in the dirt.

Damien got down on one knee. “Remember when we talked about new adventures, new friends?” he asked softly. “Now’s the perfect time,” he encouraged. “I mean, are you telling me that you can’t kick that ball farther than all of them?” he gently challenged with a grin.

Stevie picked his head up, glancing over to the game and back, a spark of interest now in his eyes.

Damien tipped his head toward the game. “Why don’t you go show ‘em what you got?”

Stevie hesitated for a moment before giving Damien a tentative smile and jogging off toward the game.

Damien’s heart warmed as he watched Stevie join in. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Arriving back home after school later that day, Stevie followed Damien inside, dumped his backpack near the door, hung up his jacket and went into the kitchen. He took a seat at the island and looked at Damien expectantly.

Damien quirked an eyebrow. “What’s up, buddy?”

“Hannah always has a snack for me when I get home.”

“Snack?” Damien floundered for a moment. Of course Stevie thought he was at home all day like Hannah was, doing…housekeeper things. Not sitting outside the school all day.

“Right. Umm…what do you want?”

“Cookies?” Stevie smiled hopefully.

Damien quickly wracked his brain, remembering what all he’d seen in his search of the pantry and refrigerator this morning. This might be doable. “What’s your favorite? Chocolate chip?”

Stevie shook his head. “Peanut butter!”

Yep, he’d definitely seen two jars of peanut butter. “Okay then, peanut butter cookies it is! But you need to help make them. Sound good?”

“Cool! Hannah never lets me help.”

“You run up and change out of your school clothes and I’ll get all the ingredients out.”

Fifteen minutes later the kitchen was a mess. The island countertop was dusted with flour and sugar, smears of butter and dollops of peanut butter, as well as Damien and Stevie. But the mess was worth it to see how proud Stevie was of making his first batch of cookie dough nearly all by himself.

Stevie finished flattening the last dough ball with a fork and smiled at Damien in accomplishment.

“You’re sure you’ve never done this before?” he teased the young boy.

“No!” Stevie laughed.

Damien took the fork from him and high-fived him with his other hand. “Well done, Chef Stevie! Okay, these only take about ten minutes to bake, so you go get yourself washed up while I clean the kitchen and you can have a few while you do your homework.”

Stevie scurried out of the kitchen and upstairs to the bathroom while Damien set about putting the kitchen back in order. He’d just about finished when the oven timer buzzed. The delicious smell of freshly baked cookies wafted through the air as he took them out and set them to cool for a minute as Stevie came back in the kitchen with his school books.

Damien poured them both a glass of milk and put a pile of warm cookies on a plate for them to share. Stevie dived in, munching away happily as he tackled his math homework. As Damien watched him, enjoying his own cookie, he was suddenly filled with regret. How many of these kinds of moments did he miss with his own son because he was a coward and ran away?

Leaving Stevie to his work, Damien walked out of the kitchen and into the living room where he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number.

“Finn?...Yeah, no, everything’s fine. I just…” he swallowed. “I just wanted to make sure we’re still on for Thanksgiving…”


	13. Chapter 13

The following morning Christian was out filming on location in D.C., which brought with it a whole host of new challenges for Michael, being out in the open like this for an extended period of time. His eyes never stopped moving behind his dark sunglasses, constantly sweeping the area as Christian worked.

There was a small group of protestors standing at the edge of the cordoned off filming area, but the studio’s security guards were doing a good job of keeping them quiet. Down the block away from them was a larger group of supporters, surprisingly made up entirely of women. How any of these people even knew where to find the _High Tide_ filming location was beyond Michael.

He turned his attention back to Christian as the cameras rolled. It was the first time Michael had seen Christian with his character’s on-screen boyfriend, who was a civilian in the show. They smiled and talked as they walked, stopping to share a kiss before they moved off in separate directions. Whoever had done the casting had done an excellent job. Michael could see the easy chemistry between them both as they worked and after the director called “Cut!”, as they stood just chatting with one another.

The same scene was repeated several times with different camera angles and coverage before the director called for a break to reset. Christian grabbed a bottle of water and walked over to Michael. He loosened the first button on his naval uniform and took a long drink. He opened his mouth to say something to Michael when one of the protestors shouted out an insult. Michael jerked his head in that direction, prepared to intervene, but saw one of the security guards moving the man away. To his credit, Christian completely ignored the man and the rest of the protestors. Instead, he tipped his head toward the group of fans.

“We’ve got a break for the next ten minutes or so. I’m going to go over and say Hi to them,” he told Michael.

“Sure thing. That’s actually really nice of you.”

Christian shrugged with a grin. “It’s the least I can do.”

For the next ten minutes Michael watched in amusement as Christian shook hands, signed autographs and took selfies with his female fans, who swooned over him. He most likely would’ve stayed longer with them but a production assistant ran up and told him he was needed back on set. He bid the women goodbye with a wave and a smile and Michael walked with him back over to where they were filming.

“They do know you and your character are gay, right?” he joked with Christian.

Christian laughed. “Man, I don’t understand it, but I have a huge fan following of straight women! I’m good with it, though, and they’re really fabulous people. Their positive voices help drown out the idiots, you know?”

Michael nodded as someone called out Christian’s name. He gave Michael a salute. “Back to work!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Back in Maryland, the day was turning out to be uneventful, for which Damien was grateful. He sat outside the school again that day and saw no one suspicious. He was hoping the photographs of Stevie and Christian that had surfaced would turn out to be an isolated incident. He was, however, pleased to see that today Stevie had joined in with the other boys at recess with just a moment’s hesitation.

The after school snack was another plate of peanut butter cookies from yesterday and another glass of milk, which Stevie polished off in record time as he worked on his English homework.

He closed his textbook, slipped his paper into his folder then turned to Damien. “That was all the homework I had. Can I go play video games?”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

“Do you…want to play with me?”

Damien looked at his expectant face and smiled. “The soldier game?”

“Yeah!”

Damien chuckled and swept his arm out. “Lead on, little man!”

Twenty minutes later Damien was getting his butt kicked by a ten-year-old. Granted, he was holding back, but still, Stevie was good! When Damien’s character took yet another fatal bullet and winked out of existence he groaned dramatically and collapsed onto the floor while Stevie laughed at his theatrics.

From his position laying on his back, Damien spied two baseball gloves on Stevie’s bookshelf—one adult, one child. Visions of playing ball with his father and brothers in his head, Damien heaved himself to his feet and picked the gloves up, holding the child-sized one out to Stevie.

“Want to go outside and play catch?”

The smile slid from Stevie’s face. “No. I don’t play anymore,” he told Damien quietly. He pointed at the adult glove. “That was Papa’s.”

Damien immediately understood and his heart ached for the young boy as he sat back down beside him, setting the gloves on the floor.

“Papa was home all the time,” Stevie said, tears forming in his eyes. “I miss him.”

Damien put his arm around Stevie’s shoulders, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I know you do,” he said softly. “Someone I loved died not too long ago, so I know what you’re going through.”

Stevie nodded. “Do you miss them?”

Damien cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. But I’ve got Michael and that’s really helped me. And you’ve got your dad. Don’t you want to play catch with him?”

“He’s always working.”

Damien clearly heard the pain and disappointment in Stevie’s voice. “Well, losing your Papa was hard on him, too. And he’s trying his best to take care of you all by himself now. He’s sad, too. I think he’d like it very much if you wanted to play ball with him.” He leaned down. “I think you’d like it, too.”

Stevie regarded Damien silent and still for a long minute before picking up his Papa’s baseball glove and staring down at it, his fingers smoothing over the leather. A spark of hope settling in Damien’s chest, he gently ruffled Stevie’s hair before standing and leaving the young boy alone with his thoughts.

About two hours later Damien heard the sound of the SUV pulling into the driveway and a minute later Christian and Michael walked into the house.

“Hey, Damien,” Christian greeted him. “Everything okay here today?”

“Yep, no problems. He got his homework done and he’s upstairs playing video games.”

Stevie appeared then at the top of the stairs, holding two baseball gloves. He glanced at Damien, who gave him a broad wink and a nod in encouragement, then he jogged down the stairs and over to Christian.

He held up his papa’s glove. “Hey, Dad, do you wanna play catch?”

Damien wouldn’t soon forget the look of shock and surprise on Christian’s face as he got down on one knee and hugged his son to him, his voice thick with unshed tears.

“I’d love to.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The firelight cast their naked bodies in warm shades of orange and yellow as they moved together, as Damien rode Michael’s cock long and slow. Michael’s hands loosely gripped Damien’s hips as he raised and lowered himself, his partner hard and hot deep inside him.

“Fuck, so good…” Damien exhaled, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, pleasure rolling through him as he took in Michael’s cock again and again.

He let himself fall completely into this perfect moment with Michael, into this bubble they’d created, just the two of them, stretched out before the fire, making love. His partner’s hands drifted up his chest, brushing over the soft, dark hair until his fingers found both of Damien’s nipples. Damien hummed in encouragement, eyes still closed as he continued to ride Michael, drawing it out as long as he could before he came.

Michael’s fingers teased the flat nipples into hard pebbles then tugged and rolled them gently, sending jolts of pleasure straight down to Damien’s cock, standing out from his body, the head red and wet with precome.

Damien groaned and opened his eyes as Michael pinched his nipples just a bit harder, his full, heavy balls throbbing as his urge to come grew. He pushed back onto Michael’s cock faster, taking him deeper.

Michael sucked in a breath. “Yeah…that’s it…”

Damien ground down onto Michael’s erection, steel wrapped in silk inside him, his breath hitching as his orgasm built at the base of his spine. Michael’s hands took hold of his hips again, helping to push Damien down as Michael’s hips gave short, sharp thrusts upward in counterpoint.

“So close…so close…” Damien panted, his body straining for release.

Then one of Michael’s hands curled around his cock and Damien groaned long and low at the touch. Michael’s grip was warm and perfect as he stroked Damien, twisting his wrist, rubbing over the swollen head, pressing against the bundle of nerves there—and Damien was gone.

He cried out as he let his climax finally roll through him, his cock pulsing, painting Michael’s chest with the thick streams of his release. He bent down as he shook, his body constricting around Michael’s cock, still hard inside him. Michael pulled him in for a deep kiss, holding him close as he rolled them over, never breaking their connection.

Michael, now on top, began to thrust, pulling nearly all the way out of Damien before pushing back in. Damien groaned again as Michael moved inside him, his body still tingling with the aftermath of his orgasm. He raised his legs, wrapping them around Michael’s waist, trying to get his partner deeper.

“Damien…Damien…” Michael breathed, his hips stuttering.

“Yeah, Mike…yeah…fuck, let me feel you…”

He captured Michael’s mouth just as he felt his partner’s entire body shudder and an instant later he was filled with the wet heat of Michael’s release. They swallowed down each other’s groans, Damien holding Michael close as he shook through his climax.

They eased back long moments later with contented sighs and soft smiles. Michael slipped from Damien’s body and they rolled onto their sides, limbs tangled together, kissing languidly. Damien reached behind him to snag his discarded shirt to clean off both their chests then tossed it away, moving back into his partner’s arms. He closed his eyes, soaking in the warmth of the fire and the heat of Michael’s body.

Michael kissed his forehead. “You’ve seemed…lighter, lately. Being with Stevie is helping you?” he asked quietly.

Damien opened his eyes, releasing a long breath. He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I feel like I’m finally atoning for Daniel.”

Michael smiled gently at him. “That makes me really happy to hear.”

“But it’s also a double-edged sword.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s made me realize how much of Finn’s life I missed out on because I ran off like a fucking coward.”

Michael propped himself up on his elbow to look down at Damien. “What matters is you’re here for Finn now. He’s forgiven you. He wants you in his life. You’ve got a lot more years with him to come.”

Damien’s heart lightened with the truth of Michael’s words and he linked their hands together. “ _We_ do, Mikey. We do.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The following morning when Michael and Damien arrived at the house, Stevie announced that since Christian only had one scene to film that day and would be home early, he wanted Damien and Michael to stay for dinner.

Michael and Damien exchanged a smile as Christian put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Oh, Stevie, that’s nice but I’m sure Damien and Michael are—“

“We’d love to,” Michael interjected.

“Are you sure?” Christian questioned.

“Absolutely,” Damien replied, then looked at Stevie. “But on two conditions—you have to go shopping with me and help me cook. Deal?”

“Deal!” Stevie grinned.

“Okay, so what are we having for dinner, Chef?” Damien asked.

“Spaghetti and meatballs!”

Damien high-fived him. “Spaghetti it is! Now go get your backpack, buddy.”

Stevie scurried off and Christian gave Michael and Damien a grateful look. “Thank you, both of you. I know this is above and beyond what you were hired for…”

Michael waved him off. “We enjoy spending time with you both.”

“Plus, I make a mean meatball,” Damien winked.

~*~*~*~*~*~

And in the end, they all agreed.

Once again, Stevie turned out to be an excellent helper to Damien, both at the grocery store and in the kitchen. Damien cleaned up the mess left behind by the young chef and dinner was a simple, easy, relaxed affair, topped off with ice cream sundaes, a last minute addition that Stevie requested.

Since Damien spent the majority of his time with Stevie, he enjoyed getting to know Christian more as they chatted over plates of spaghetti. And the same could be said for Michael, getting to spend time with Stevie, the young boy impressed that he, too, used to be a soldier.

Stomachs pleasantly full, they all decided to take advantage of the mild autumn evening and moved out onto the back patio—the adults with bottles of beer in hand. Damien helped Christian start a fire in the built-in fire pit, while admiring the view, the grassy backyard leading down to the lush wooded area. Quiet and peaceful.

“Ah, brilliant!” Michael called out, snatching up a ball from the yard. He held it out to Stevie. “Fancy a game of football?”

Stevie shook his head, taking the ball from Michael. “This isn’t a football, silly! It’s a soccer ball!”

Damien watched Michael open his mouth then close it, apparently deciding against trying to explain the British term for the sport. Instead he smiled. “You’re absolutely right. Care to show me how to play?”

A feeling of warmth settled over Damien as he sat down in a patio chair next to Christian, watching Michael play with Stevie. It was easy to see his partner would make an incredible father someday.

A long sigh from Christian drew his attention and he glanced over to see Christian watching Michael and Stevie as well.

“I’ve felt like the world’s worst father this past year,” Christian muttered, taking a long drink of his beer.

“No, that award definitely belongs to me,” Damien remarked ruefully.

Christian turned to him, curious. “Michael mentioned you had a son. Finn?”

Damien nodded, then took a drink of his own beer. “He’s sixteen, but I never even met him until a few months ago. I ran out on his mother when she told me she was pregnant.” He sighed. “Not my finest moment.”

“How’s your relationship with him?”

Damien smiled. “We got off to a rough start but we’re good now. I’ve got a lot to make up for, but he wants to spend time with me and I’m grateful for that. We’re getting to know each other.”

“I’m really glad to hear that,” Christian replied sincerely. “I wish I could say the same, though. An actor’s life is not 9 to 5. I barely get to spend any time with Stevie. At least when Jack was still with us he always had him to go to. Hannah is lovely, but she’s not his father. And I feel like I’m letting someone else raise my son now.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. Being a single parent isn’t easy for either of you. Especially after your loss. You’re both still trying to figure things out.”

Christian nodded slowly. “I wish he knew I think about him all the time when I’m not with him, wishing I was.”

Damien thought for a second. “Maybe he can. Maybe it’s as easy as sneaking a note in his backpack. I’m sure that’d make him smile.”

Christian blinked. “That’s…a really great idea.”

Damien shrugged, grinning. “Michael will tell you I occasionally have them.”

Christian chuckled. “You two make a good team.”

Damien watched his partner run around the yard, smiling and laughing with Stevie as they chased the ball. “It’s been a long road for us both to get to this point. We nearly threw it all away without even giving it a chance. But Finn knocked some sense into both of us. And here we are.”

“Smart kid,” Christian smiled.

Damien groaned. “Yeah, he knows it, too.”

“Oi! You lot!” Michael called out. “Up off your butts. Stevie and I challenge you to a game.”

“Yeah! C’mon, Dad!”

Damien leaned in toward Christian. “You know we’re going to get said butts kicked, right?”

Christian clinked his bottle against Damien’s with a broad smile. “Absolutely.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Late the next evening, Michael pulled out of Christian’s driveway, gave a wave of acknowledgement to the night shift man parked outside and drove off toward home. Normally Damien would be in his Jeep following him, but not tonight. Stevie had been invited to a sleep-over party and his partner had dropped him off a few hours earlier, complete with a second night shift man parked across the street of Stevie’s friend’s house.

Michael shifted in his seat and pressed down on the accelerator, driving a bit faster than normal. He reached down between his legs and adjusted himself, sucking in a breath as he palmed his cock. He’d been half-hard for over an hour now and he was in need of his partner to take care of his little problem. He felt his cock twitch in anticipation of exactly what he had in mind, hoping for green lights the rest of the way.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Finally arriving at the apartment, Michael opened the door to find all of the lights off, but a fire burning warmly, illuminating the living room. He spied his partner sprawled out on the couch, barefoot, wearing a plain white v-neck t-shirt and black sweatpants, sipping from a glass of whiskey.

“Fuck,” Michael swore under his breath, his cock jumping at the sight.

Damien gave him a lazy smile. “Hey.”

Michael shed his suit jacket and advanced upon his unsuspecting partner. He spread Damien’s legs, dropped down to his knees between them and crushed their mouths together. Damien froze for a split second, most likely in confusion at Michael’s unexpected forcefulness, but then he, and his body, quickly got with the program.

They slanted their mouths across one another’s, Michael’s tongue chasing the taste of whiskey around Damien’s mouth, Damien’s hands on his back, bunching the material of his dress shirt between them. Michael kissed him fiercely, and Damien gave as good as he got. His cock fully hard now, Michael pressed his upper body against his partner’s and felt an answering hardness against his stomach. Michael groaned and pulled back sharply from the kiss. Damien’s eyes were wide and dark in the firelight, his lips red and wet, his chest rising and falling with short breaths. Even though clearly aroused he didn’t move, watching Michael in anticipation, letting him run the show.

Reversing the events of a few weeks ago, Michael stripped Damien while he remained fully dressed. Tossing his partner’s clothes to the side, Michael let his eyes rove over Damien’s naked body, lingering on his erect cock as he moved back between Damien’s spread legs. Then with one more heated look, Michael dropped his head, opened his mouth and took in Damien’s length.

His partner hissed out a breath and cupped the back of Michael’s head. “Yeah…”

Michael didn’t hold back, bobbing his head, sucking and stroking Damien’s cock hard and fast. His tongue lapped up the precome leaking from the slit, taking his partner’s erection as far down his throat as he could, swallowing around it.

“Michael… _Christ_ …” Damien swore, his head dropping back against the couch, mouth falling open.

His fingers flexed in Michael’s short hair, his hips twitching upward, trying to get his cock even further down Michael’s throat.

“Oh, fuck, don’t stop…”

Michael hummed around the thick length and Damien moaned sharply in response, another stream of precome oozing from the swollen head.

“Yeah, yeah,” Damien encouraged, his breath hitching.

Michael continued his sensual assault on Damien’s cock, pushing his partner’s arousal to the limit, waiting until he heard…

“Oh, fuck, Mike, I’m gonna…”

…before pulling sharply off of his partner’s cock, abruptly denying him his release.

“You fucking tease,” Damien panted.

Michael gave him a smirk before standing and slowly, slowly stripping. Damien watched with blatant arousal, legs still spread, his own hand now stroking himself. Michael toed out of his shoes, shed his shirt and tie, then slid down his pants and underwear, his boxer briefs damp with precome. He bit his lip as he curled his hand around his rock hard erection, stroking himself in time with Damien.

They were putting on a show for one another and Michael found it incredibly erotic. And he wanted more.

“On your knees,” he commanded Damien, his voice rough with restrained arousal.

Heat flared in Damien’s blue eyes as he obeyed without a word, climbing up onto the couch and turning around, knees on the cushion, forearms resting on the back. He spread his legs, presenting his ass to Michael as he looked back over his shoulder at him.

“ _Fuck_ …” Michael cursed, his cock throbbing in his grasp.

Unable to resist, Michael dropped to his own knees, and without warning licked across his partner’s entrance.

“Fuck, _yes_ …” Damien groaned.

Michael wasted no time, using his mouth and tongue to open and stretch his partner until Damien was shifting restlessly, trying to get Michael’s tongue further inside him.

“Jesus Christ, Michael,” Damien panted. “Need you right fucking _now_ …”

His own cock aching to be buried inside his partner, Michael moved back, wrenching open the drawer of the coffee table, fumbling with the tube inside. He hastily coated his erection in the clear lube as he stood, then pressed the swollen head against the small, puckered muscle. He hesitated for only a brief second before gripping Damien’s hips and pulling his partner back onto his cock in one long, smooth motion.

Damien cried out and Michael gasped as he filled his partner so completely, Damien’s body surrounding him with tight heat. Any semblance of self-control Michael had left vanished and he let his arousal loose.

He took Damien hard and fast, his hips snapping, driving his cock in and out of his partner over and over. Damien rocked back just as forcefully, gripping the back of the couch as hard as Michael gripped his hips.

The sound of skin slapping skin was loud in the quiet of the room, inarticulate noises falling from both their lips as their bodies pounded against one another’s.

“Faster… _harder_ …” Damien pleaded hoarsely, reaching down between his legs to jerk his cock. “Oh fuck, Mike, go deeper…”

Michael felt light-headed with the frantic intensity of their coupling, his heart pounding, breath coming in harsh pants, skin shiny with sweat. His balls throbbed, his cock so hard it ached, his orgasm building low inside, moments away from surging through him. He tried his best to hold it off, wanting to prolong the pleasure as long as he could. But then Damien shivered, his fist still working his cock with quick, sharp pulls.

“Mike…Mike…” he ground out. “I’m gonna come…oh fuck, I’m gonna come…”

Damien’s shout of completion a moment later was loud and long, echoing off the walls as his entire body trembled, his cock painting the couch with the thick streams of his release.

The sight, sound and feel of Damien’s orgasm was Michael’s undoing. He thrust in once, twice more, burying himself as deep as possible as his climax surged through him. He cried out with the intensity, coming harder than he could remember, his cock pulsing over and over, emptying himself deep within Damien.

Michael fell forward over his partner’s back and they shook together for long moments before they both collapsed down onto the carpet in a pile of sweaty, tangled limbs until their breathing finally calmed.

Damien threaded his fingers through Michael’s hair with an amused expression. “I’m certainly not complaining, but what the hell brought that on?”

Michael felt his face heat. “I…umm…I had to watch Christian film a love scene with his on-screen boyfriend over and over and…” he trailed off.

Damien chuckled. “Turned you on, eh?” he teased. “When exactly does this episode air? Tell me it’s soon ‘cause I’d love a repeat performance!” His blue eyes flashed with heat. “You’re sexy as fuck when you really let go, Mikey. I mean, hell, look what you made me do to the couch!”

Michael gave him a smug smirk. “You’d best go clean up your mess then, mate.”

Damien’s eyebrows rose. “ _Me_? You’re the one that caused it!”

Michael held up a closed fist for their tried and true way to settle a dispute—rock, paper, scissors.

Damien raised his own fist with a grin. “Oh, you’re on, buddy!”

“One, two, three.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Damien cursed and Michael burst out laughing before kissing his partner warmly.

“Damien. Always with the scissors.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next week passed without incident, for which both Michael and Damien were grateful. As Michael had predicted, the amount of hate mail directed at Christian dwindled and the protestors at the studio each day continued to drop down to just a handful outside the gates. And Damien never noticed anyone suspicious in the neighborhood. Things had quieted down sufficiently that the studio informed Quinn that they would be ending the protection detail for Christian and Stevie at the end of the week.

While Damien and Michael were glad that nothing had happened to either of them, they were disappointed they’d no longer be seeing them on a daily basis. They broke the news to Christian when they arrived the next morning.

“Thank you both for everything,” Christian said. “I appreciate you looking after us. Though I’ll admit I’m going to miss seeing you. And I know Stevie will, too. We’ve gotten used to you being around.” His small smile was tinged with a bit of sadness. “I know we were just a job for you, but I’d really like our friendship to continue. That is, if you want to. I don’t want to presume anything—“

“We’d love to,” Michael interrupted. “You and Stevie stopped being just a job for us quite a while ago.”

As if on cue, Stevie came down the stairs, dressed for school.

“Hey, little man,” Damien greeted him. “I wanted to let you know that Hannah will be back on Monday and Michael has a new job, driving someone else around.”

Stevie looked crestfallen. “You mean I won’t see you anymore?”

“Well, we won’t be here everyday,” Damien told him. “But your dad said we can still hang out together every once in a while. That be okay?”

Stevie brightened. “Yeah, totally!”

They sealed the deal with a high-five and Damien found himself looking forward to their future play dates.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A ringing sound pulled Damien slowly awake. He groaned in annoyance and felt Michael, a warm, heavy weight pressed against his back, shift, his fingers flexing against Damien’s stomach. Still half-asleep, Damien thought the noise was his alarm, signaling the start of their last day with Christian and Stevie.

Damien blindly reached out for his phone to shut off the noise, rolling away from Michael and toward the bedside table. Their bedroom was still dark and Damien blinked at the sudden brightness of his phone’s display—realizing two things. One, it was only 5:01 am and two, it wasn’t his alarm making the noise, his phone was actually ringing. Squinting at the caller ID display he saw that it was Quinn.

Warning bells immediately going off in his head, he was instantly fully awake. No one, especially his boss, called this early unless there was something wrong. He sat up abruptly, jostling Michael awake as he answered the call.

“Quinn? What’s going on?”

His friend’s next words shot ice water through his veins, the ground dropping out from under him.

_“Stevie’s been kidnapped.”_

The breath rushed out of Damien’s lungs. “ _What?!”_

_“Just get to the house. Now.”_

Damien’s heart pounded wildly, his blood rushing in his ears, the phone falling down onto the mattress. Michael sat up beside him, his hand on Damien’s arm, brows drawn together.

“Damien? What is it?”

Damien swallowed against a dry throat, his words hollow. “Stevie. He’s been taken.”

Michael’s eyes widened in disbelief. “ _What_?”

Damien exploded up and off the bed, a riot of overwhelming emotions surging through him. Rage the first and foremost. He whirled toward the wall with a harsh shout, slamming his fist against it, a vision of another little boy and an explosion filling his vision.

He shook his head fiercely, his stomach churning with the possibility he’d failed another child. “This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening…”

Michael was suddenly standing in front of him, gripping his shoulders tightly. “Damien.”

Damien jabbed his finger into Michael’s chest. “I will _not_ let that little boy die, Michael. I _won’t_!” he vowed, his voice breaking.

Michael squeezed his shoulders. “ _We_ won’t,” he clarified strongly. “So take a breath and let’s go bring him home.”

Damien’s gaze hardened, his jaw clenching. “Fucking copy that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The trip to Christian’s house was tense and silent, Michael insisting on being behind the wheel, Damien clearly in no state to drive. He shot a glance over at his partner, noticing his clenched fists and faraway stare. He could only imagine what was running through Damien’s mind. There was no denying he had bonded with Stevie these past few weeks. And now possibly losing him after promising to keep him safe? Just when he was finally putting Daniel’s death behind him. This was his worst nightmare.

Michael’s own head was spinning. How the fuck did this happen? He was sure Damien was blaming himself, but he knew there was no way in hell that his partner had missed someone lurking about the neighborhood, watching Stevie.

He was pulled from his musings as they arrived at Christian’s house, parking in the driveway. He noticed Quinn’s car on the street, parked in front of the night shift’s car, but what he _didn’t_ see were any police cars, which he had been expecting.

Damien practically threw himself out of the car and ran up the front steps, bursting through the door, Michael right behind him. Damien turned toward the living room, where Michael could hear voices and he continued to follow his partner.

Walking into the room, Michael saw Quinn, Christian and Jeff Morgan, the night shift man, standing together. Michael immediately turned his focus on Christian, but Damien marched directly up to Morgan. He grabbed two fistfuls of Morgan’s shirt and shook the man roughly.

“How the _fuck_ did you let this happen?” Damien yelled.

“Damien! Stop it!” Quinn demanded, pulling on Damien’s arm as Morgan pushed away from him.

“You don’t think I’m sick about this?” Morgan shouted back. “I didn’t see anything. Christian didn’t hear anything, either!”

Michael turned to Christian, the distraught father’s face a mask of anguish. He gently squeezed his shoulder in comfort. “Christian, what happened?” he asked softly.

Visibly shaken, Christian swallowed hard. “I was up early, about a quarter to five,” he began. “I’d been putting notes into Stevie’s backpack like Damien suggested.” He turned to Damien, his voice wavering. “He loved them.” He took a shaky breath. “I was going to sneak into his bedroom to leave him another one and I noticed he wasn’t in his bed. At first I wasn’t concerned, thinking he was just down the hall in the bathroom. So I put the note in his backpack. But when I left his room I noticed the bathroom door was open. I walked down there and he wasn’t there. I still wasn’t panicking, figuring he was downstairs, but I didn’t know why he’d be up so early.”

Christian ran a shaking hand through his hair. “But he wasn’t downstairs. I tore the house apart, calling his name. He wasn’t _anywhere_. I ran out the back door, searching the yard. Nothing. Then I ran out the front door, calling for Jeff.”

“I called Quinn,” Morgan said, picking up the story. “Then Christian and I searched the house and yard again. Nothing.”

“And neither of you saw or heard anything?” Michael confirmed and they both shook their heads.

“And the front and back doors were locked from the inside,” Morgan said.

“Then how the fuck did someone get in and out of the house?” Damien asked. “Especially if the alarm didn’t go off.”

“I think we discovered the answer to both those questions right before you arrived,” Quinn spoke up. “Come upstairs.”

Quinn led them all into the guest bedroom, which was right next to Stevie’s. He pointed to the window, which faced the back of the house—out of Morgan’s view from the street. At first Michael didn’t see anything, until he moved closer.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” he cursed.

A piece of glass had been cut from the window, right above the alarm sensor, just big enough for a hand to fit through. And there on the sensor was a magnet. The magnet fooled the sensor into thinking the window was still closed when it had in fact been opened, then closed again. They’d found the kidnapper’s point of entrance and exit.

“Whoever this guy is, he’s smart,” Damien stated. “Doesn’t try and make entrance directly into Stevie’s room in case he wakes him cutting the glass and disabling the alarm.” He peered out the window. “And there, scratches on the frame outside. Most likely from a collapsible ladder.”

“Let’s see Stevie’s room,” Michael said and the five men moved to the room next door.

It was completely undisturbed. No signs of a struggle. The blankets had been folded back neatly on the bed. Michael and Damien began a thorough search of the room as the doorbell rang. They both looked up and Quinn held up a hand.

“I called in Drew and Sasha. They’re not on assignment and we need all hands on deck for this. Morgan, come down with me and we’ll brief them.”

Morgan nodded and followed Quinn from the room, leaving Christian staring worriedly at Michael and Damien as they started their search again, looking for any evidence the kidnapper may have unknowingly left behind. Damien took the floor and Michael started with the bed. Why hadn’t Stevie made a sound when a stranger came in his room?

He carefully examined the quilt, then the sheet, finding nothing. He picked up the pillow to check under it and immediately paused. What was that smell? He lifted the pillow and took a cautious sniff.

He snapped his head toward his partner. “Damien.”

Damien spun around. “What’ve you got?”

Michael held out the pillow to him. “Smell.”

Damien moved closer and bent his head down, only to raise it quickly a moment later, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Michael confirmed. “Chloroform.” Now they knew why Stevie hadn’t made any noise while being abducted.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Damien swore, running a hand down his face.

“ _Chloroform_?” Christian exclaimed. “Someone _drugged_ my son??”

Michael lay a hand on Christian’s arm, but addressed Damien. “It’s getting lighter out. We need to search the grounds. If Morgan didn’t see anyone at the front of the house, they had to have disappeared out the back. Most likely through the woods.”

Damien nodded, already heading for the door. “Copy that.”

“Michael…”

Michael turned to Christian, panic in the other man’s eyes. “I know this is a lot to take in. But I need you to hold it together the best you can. Let Damien and I work. Try and get some answers for you. Can you do that?”

Christian pulled in a long, shaking breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

Michael squeezed his arm. “Good man. Come on.”

They met up with Quinn, Sasha, Drew and Morgan downstairs, Damien leading the way out the back door. The group stepped out into the crisp autumn morning just as dawn was breaking.

“Sasha, Morgan—take the east and west,” Damien instructed. “Search through the neighbor’s yards. The rest of us will start here and move toward the woods.”

Everyone spread out, including Christian, looking for any sign of what direction the kidnapper had taken Stevie. But the grass in the backyard here in the fall was short and regularly trampled on by both Stevie and Christian, making identifying footprints impossible and they reached the tree line with no evidence of direction of travel.

They’d barely passed the edge of the wooded area when Damien called out sharply.

“Here!”

Michael ran over to his partner with the others, looking down to where he was pointing, behind a large fallen log. There was no doubt this was where the kidnapper had lain in wait, the undergrowth significantly flattened, with direct sightline to the back of the house.

Damien and Michael dropped to a crouch, yet again looking for anything the man may have left behind to help identify him as Quinn got on his cell phone to Sasha and Morgan, telling them both to come to their position in the woods.

“What the fuck?”

Michael turned to Damien as his partner held something up.

“What’s that look like to you, Mike?”

Michael moved closer to get a better look at the strip of brown fabric that was frayed around the edges. His brow furrowed as the ingrained soldier in him gave him the answer, based on the context of the situation.

“It looks like a piece from a ghilley suit,” Michael answered.

Drew’s eyebrows rose. “A _ghilley suit_?”

“Makes sense,” Damien replied. “He’s out here doing surveillance, needing to conceal his presence.”

“A ghilley suit is not your average piece of equipment for a kidnapper,” Quinn said.

Michael, who had continued to search on his hands and knees as the others spoke, made another discovery—a wet patch in the fallen leaves. He picked up the most damp one and brought it closer to his face, taking a cautious sniff.

“Oi!” he said, getting everyone’s attention as Morgan and Sasha arrived. He held up the leaf. “Urine.”

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. “Someone wasn’t leaving their post to even take a piss.”

Quinn’s gaze took in the house, the flattened grass, the fabric and the leaf. “You know what all of this adds up to, right?”

“We’re looking at someone who has special ops training,” Sasha spoke up.

And as unbelievable as it sounded, Michael had to agree, and from the look on everyone else’s faces, so did they.

Christian, who had been silent until now, threw up his hands, overwhelmed. “You’re saying someone in the _military_ took my son? All because of _High Tide_? This is insane!”

Michael remained quiet, but he didn’t disagree with Christian. He found it hard to believe one of the protestors would take things this far. And casting a glance at Damien, he could tell his partner was of the same mindset.

Damien looked at Quinn. “Your law enforcement connections—can they run DNA off the books?”

“I’ve got friends who owe me favors,” Quinn replied. “It’s time to call them in. I’ll make some calls.”

Michael got to his feet, still holding the leaf. “Speaking of calls, why haven’t the police been called in? I expected them to be here when we arrived.”

“I wanted to talk to Quinn first,” Christian explained. “All of you know more about what’s been going on with me and Stevie than the police. I wanted Quinn’s input first. But now that you’re talking about some kind of covert soldier doing this… Do you think the police can even handle this?”

Michael caught everyone’s steady gaze before turning to Christian. “No,” he answered simply, honestly. “We’re all ex-military. This is our world. We know how a man like this thinks, operates. We have the advantage. Let us bring Stevie home.”

Tears gathered in Christian’s eyes as he nodded. “Please find him.”

“Sasha,” Quinn said softly. “Let’s take Christian back to the house.” He held his hand out for the stem of the leaf Michael was holding and took it from him. “I’ll bag this and make those calls. The rest of you keep searching.”

Michael waited until the three of them had moved out of hearing distance before he spoke to his partner, Drew and Morgan.

“I didn’t want to panic Christian any more than he already is, but this kidnapping obviously wasn’t a spur of the moment decision.”

Damien nodded. “This was well-planned. Look how flat this area is. He’s been staking out the house for multiple nights.”

Michael instantly recalled being out in the yard playing footie with Stevie. Were they being surveilled that night? A chill ran through him at the possibility.

“There’s no way this was the first time whoever this is has done something like this,” Drew added.

“The stealth alone speaks of experience,” Morgan agreed.

“My gut is telling me this has nothing to do with a television show,” Michael said, looking back at the house, his jaw tightening. “So what the bloody hell is really going on here?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Christian’s home became a flurry of activity over the next few hours. One of Quinn’s contacts had come through and the urine covered leaf was on its way for DNA testing, but they wouldn’t have the results until the next morning at the earliest. In the meantime, Sentinel Security set up a home base of sorts in the dining room with multiple computers and equipment hooked up to Christian’s cell and home numbers to trace any incoming calls. For now they were operating on the possibility, slim though it may be, that Stevie had indeed been kidnapped for some sort of ransom demand in order to get Christian off of _High Tide_.

Michael sat with Christian at the kitchen island, sipping his tea as the distraught father drank his second cup of coffee. Looking around him, Michael felt as if he was back in the crib, he and Damien on a mission for Section 20 again, falling easily back into the role of special op soldiers, tracking down their target in order to save the innocent.

“Do you really think Stevie’s being held for some sort of ransom demand?” Christian asked, interrupting Michael’s thoughts.

With what Michael knew so far, he highly doubted it, but he didn’t voice his concerns to Christian. He needed to give him hope that Stevie wasn’t in danger, that this could all be over with negotiations. “Until we can gather more intel, that’s the assumption we’re running with,” he answered.

Damien walked into Michael’s field of vision and Michael frowned. His partner had been alternately pacing between the living room and dining room and standing with arms crossed, staring out the front window, as if he could bring Stevie home by sheer force of will.

“He’s barely said two words to me since you got here,” Christian said quietly, tipping his head toward Damien. “Does he think I blame him for Stevie’s kidnapping? Because I don’t.”

Michael sighed heavily. “No. But he blames himself nevertheless. There was…an incident with a child in Damien’s past. One that he hadn’t been able to come to terms with until he met Stevie. To him, this is history repeating itself and he’s having a hard time coping.” He paused. “He might not be able to say it, but he’s hurting nearly as much as you are. But trust me when I say, nothing will stop us from finding Stevie and bringing him back to you.”

Christian nodded slowly, his eyes once again bright with unshed tears. “If anyone can, I believe it’s the two of you.”

And so they waited for a ransom demand.

That never came.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael rolled over in the middle of the night, searching for Damien’s warmth but found only cool sheets instead. He blinked open sleep-heavy eyes, catching the bedside clock which read 3:07 am. He scrubbed a hand over his face with a long exhale and sat up, exhaustion weighing heavy on him.

Yesterday had been interminably long. And fruitless. There was no communication from the kidnapper and further searches of the woods revealed no additional clues. Quinn finally sent everyone but himself home around 11 pm. He would stay throughout the night in case a call did come in.

Damien had withdrawn into himself and hadn’t spoken a word since they left Christian’s house last night. Michael’s heart ached not only for Christian but his partner as well. If things went bad, if they couldn’t bring Stevie home alive—he didn’t know if Damien would ever recover.

The apartment was still and dark and quiet around him. He didn’t hear Damien either in the bathroom or in the living room. Concerned about his partner’s state of mind, Michael pushed down the blankets, slipped into a pair of sweatpants and went in search of him.

As he walked into the living room, cool air from the partially opened sliding glass door drew him toward the balcony, where he could hear the soft murmur of Damien’s voice. He stepped outside into the chilly night air and approached Damien quietly. His partner stood at the railing, also wearing a pair of sweatpants, staring off into the distance. Michael noticed his phone sitting on the small table, the display still on.

He reached out and gently lay a hand on his partner’s lower back. “Damien,” he said quietly. “Who was on the phone? Was it Quinn? Has something happened?”

Damien turned and cleared his throat. “No. It was…I called Finn. Scared the shit out of him. I didn’t realize what time it was. I just…I needed to hear his voice…” he trailed off.

Michael made a soft noise and drew Damien to him, holding him close, his partner’s arms winding around him, head buried in the crook of Michael’s shoulder. Damien’s skin was cold, and Michael wondered how long he’d been out here. He turned his head and kissed Damien’s hair.

“Come back to bed.”

But Damien shook his head, stepping back, turning anguished blue eyes on Michael. “I can’t sleep. Stevie’s out there somewhere. Terrified.” He banged his fist down on the railing. “And it’s _my fault_ ,” he ground out, voice breaking.

Michael’s chest clenched at the pain in Damien’s words.

“It’s Daniel all over again.” Damien swallowed hard, a single tear breaking free. “If Stevie dies, it’ll destroy me, Mike.”

Michael shook his head, laying his hands on his partner’s shoulders, his voice steady and calming. “You have to stop blaming yourself. None of us saw this coming.” He gave Damien’s shoulders a squeeze. “When have we _ever_ failed a mission, you and me?”

Damien pulled in a long breath, his expression turning to one of hope and determination. “Never.”

“That’s right. And we’re sure as hell not about to start now.”


	15. Chapter 15

Mid-morning, Quinn recalled the team to Christian’s house. The DNA results had come in.

Damien sat in the passenger seat of the SUV as Michael drove, drinking a large cup of coffee. He needed the caffeine. He hadn’t slept at all last night, his mind filled with anger and fear and guilt. After his conversation with Michael out on the balcony his partner made a fire and they lay on the couch together under a blanket. Michael didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. His actions spoke louder than words, simply holding Damien for hours, lending him his strength, which Damien gladly took.

The car pulled to a stop and Damien blinked, coming out of his thoughts. They lived further from Christian’s house than everyone else, so he wasn’t surprised to see Sasha and Drew’s cars already there. But not Morgan’s.

Damien finished his coffee and his pulse spiked as he got out of the car in anticipation of the information Quinn had. Hopefully they finally had something to go on. Sitting on his hands nearly all day yesterday had driven him crazy. He wanted to be out there, looking for Stevie.

Everyone was gathered in the dining room again and Damien was hit with a strong sense of déjà vu. He felt like he was walking into one of Section 20’s cribs. It wasn’t Locke, Julia and Kim gathered around the computers but it still had that same, familiar feeling. He hated the circumstances, but it felt good to be back on a mission again with Michael. Deep down, they would always be soldiers. This is what they were good at. There was just no denying it.

Michael went over to Christian and Damien knew he needed to have a conversation with him at some point today, after barely speaking to him yesterday. If Quinn had actionable intel then he’d be able to give Christian some much needed hope.

Quinn looked up from the laptop he was sitting in front of. “Perfect timing. Gather ‘round.”

Damien, Christian and Michael moved to stand with Sasha behind Quinn, Drew sitting next to their boss, behind another laptop.

“We’ve got our man,” Quinn began, gesturing to the computer screen. “DNA results came back to one Paul Medford.”

Damien stared at the Maryland driver’s license photo, a man in his late thirties with brown eyes and very close cropped hair staring back at him. “Why is he in the system?”

Quinn changed the screen and Damien’s eyes widened at the next picture. They’d been right all along.

“Medford is a former SEAL. He’d been in the Navy since he was nineteen, worked his way up to special forces. He was married to Robert Walden and they had an adopted son. Walden was also in the Navy, stationed here at the Yards. He filed for divorce on the grounds that Medford was becoming mentally unstable and physically abusive.”

Drew, an ex-SEAL himself, nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I saw it happen more than once. After years working special ops some guys just…break.”

“Walden received full custody of their son,” Quinn continued. “That didn’t sit well with the already unstable Medford and Walden filed a restraining order against him after he tried taking their son.”

Sasha picked up the story. “And then a year later both Medford and the boy were killed by a drunk driver.”

Damien closed his eyes. “Shit.”

Drew nodded. “Their deaths pushed Medford over the edge. He wound up being medically discharged from the Navy not long afterwards for psychiatric reasons. He hasn’t been able to hold down a job since then for more than a month or two at a time.” He turned back to his computer, then looked over his shoulder. “But are you ready for this?”

His fingers pressed a few keys and a photo appeared of Robert Walden in his Navy uniform. Damien’s jaw dropped and beside him, Christian pulled in a breath. Walden’s resemblance to Christian was uncanny.

“And there’s more.” Quinn paused. “Walden and Medford’s son’s name was Steven.”

“ _What_?” Christian exhaled.

“This is all making sense now,” Michael said. “Medford must have seen Christian on TV or the internet, either on _High Tide_ wearing his character’s Navy uniform or a promotional interview where he had Stevie with him. His shattered mind thinks he’s seeing Robert and his son.”

“He obviously hasn’t lost any of his SEAL skills and discovers where Christian lives,” Drew added.

Damien’s jaw tightened. “There isn’t ever going to be a ransom demand,” he said grimly. “He thinks he’s gotten his son back.”

Christian squeezed his eyes closed, his hands curling over the back of Drew’s chair, his knuckles white. “Oh my God…”

Michael reached out and gripped his shoulder, addressing Quinn and Drew. “The address on his driver’s license—do we know if it’s current?”

“Unknown,” Quinn answered. “He’s moved around quite a bit over the last year.”

“But it’s the best lead we’ve got,” Damien said.

Quinn nodded. “You, Michael and Sasha get over there. And you’re going armed. If he’s unstable, I want you prepared. Drew and I will keep digging into his background, in case he’s not there.”

Damien shook his head. “No. No guns. Stevie’s been traumatized enough by all of this. I won’t make it worse by killing someone in front of him.”

“I agree,” Michael said and Sasha nodded as well.

“I assume you’ve got less-lethal options?” Damien said to Quinn.

Quinn stared hard at him for a long moment before finally nodding. “We’ve got tasers and beanbag rounds.”

“Good, that’ll do,” Damien replied.

“Sasha knows where they’re stored at the office.”

“Copy that,” Michael answered. “Where’s Morgan, by the way?”

Quinn shot a quick look at Damien. “He’s needed elsewhere and I didn’t want any more animosity between the two of you.” He looked back at Michael. “But I’ll pull him in if you want me to.”

Michael caught Damien’s eyes and then Sasha’s and he shook his head. “No, we’ve got it covered.”

“Okay, then. Get your asses moving. Let’s bring Stevie home.”

Michael and Sasha both gave Christian a reassuring pat on his back as they moved past him, heading for the front door. Damien snagged Michael’s arm as his partner started to walk past him. He tipped his head toward Christian, his voice low. “Give me a minute.”

Michael nodded in understanding. “We’ll be in the car.”

Christian looked shell-shocked at the new developments and Damien’s chest twisted painfully. He touched Christian on his arm and led the other man into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry for how I was toward you yesterday,” Damien began.

Christian shook his head. “It’s okay. At first I thought you thought I somehow blamed you for this, but then Michael mentioned something happened to another child you knew.”

Damien took a breath. “It’s dredging up memories for me, in more ways than one. Not only what Michael said, but my own son, Finn, was abducted, not too long ago. He became involved in an op Michael and I were on and he was taken as bait to draw us out. So I know _exactly_ how you’re feeling right now.”

Christian’s eyes went wide and he put his hand over his mouth. “My God. But you obviously got him back. And he’s okay?”

“I did. And yes, he’s fine now. And Stevie will be, too. Your son means a great deal to me. I _promise_ I’ll him home to you,” Damien vowed.

“I’m terrified,” Christian admitted, voice trembling.

“I know you are. But this is what Michael and I do.” He paused, his next words strong, confident. “And we’ve never failed.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

His vow ringing in his ears, Damien jumped out of the SUV just down the block from Paul Medford’s house, taser in hand, wearing a Kevlar vest, adrenaline surging through his veins. Once again a feeling of Section 20 déjà vu washed over him as he and Michael crept up to the small, one-story home. How many times had they done something exactly like this together? The familiarity was comforting, reassuring.

The run-down neighborhood was quiet as they approached, Sasha just a few steps behind them, her taser up and ready, while Michael pressed the stock of the shotgun containing the beanbag rounds firmly against his shoulder. They split up when they reached the house—Damien to the front door, Michael to the back door and Sasha on the right side, where the largest windows were.

Damien peered cautiously through the windows on both sides of the front door, looking for Stevie, Medford, any kind of movement. But he saw nothing in the living room. He keyed his comm., his voice a whisper.

“Negative at the front.”

_“I’m looking at the kitchen in the rear. Negative as well,”_ Michael answered quietly.

_“And I’ve got a bedroom. Also negative,”_ Sasha replied softly.

“Let’s make entry. Sasha, you’re with me,” Damien told them.

“Copy that, coming to you.”

While Damien’s usual method of entry was simply kicking down the door, in this case stealth, and the element of surprise, was needed, if Medford was somewhere in the house they couldn’t see. So instead he made quick work of the lock with his pick kit as he knew Michael was doing the same to the rear door.

Michael’s quiet voice was in his ear just as Damien turned the door handle.

_“Bravo Two—making entry.”_

“Copy, Bravo One.”

Damien and Sasha crept inside, tasers up and at the ready, ears straining to pick up the slightest sound, eyes darting around. The interior of the home was unkempt—clothes strewn about, empty takeout food containers, furniture with rips and tears, a fine layer of dust hung in the air, along with a musty smell. But no sign of Stevie or Medford.

Damien caught Sasha’s eyes and they nodded in tandem, moving toward the hallway and the doorway of the one bedroom. They met Michael coming from the back of the house. He gave them a quick shake of his head. The kitchen was empty. Sasha entered the bedroom first, going left, while Damien went right and Michael remained in the hall, keeping an eye on the rest of the house, just in case.

Damien’s hopes of quickly and easily finding Stevie dropped as the messy bedroom and attached bathroom were both found to be empty.

“Clear,” Sasha called out to Michael.

Damien ran a hand down his face in frustration. “ _Shit_.”

“He hasn’t been gone from here long,” Michael said. “There are signs in the kitchen that he’s eaten here, yesterday at the latest.”

“So he could just have Stevie out somewhere, and will be back,” Sasha commented.

Michael nodded. “It’s a possibility.”

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here, report in to Quinn and set up a stakeout,” Damien replied tightly, stalking from the bedroom and out the front door, Sasha locking it behind them.

He holstered his taser and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Quinn. “Negative on the house,” Damien said when his boss answered.

_“Dammit,”_ Quinn sighed. _“Drew and I didn’t come across any other property in his name.”_

“Based on what we saw, we’re thinking he might come back here.”

_“Okay, I’m sending Drew out to you. He and Sasha will remain there to watch the house.”_

“And Michael and I?”

_“We found out a few more things about Medford. He’s been undergoing psychiatric treatment at the VA. But since we’re not bringing in the police, we’ll never get a warrant for the records. Medford’s parents are dead, but he has a younger sister, Cassidy. She lives only ten miles from your location. I want you to talk to her. Tell her what’s going on. Maybe she’ll know about his treatment or where he might have gone.”_

“Copy that,” Damien answered and ended the call. A moment later a text came through with Cassidy’s address and he relayed the plan to Sasha and Michael.

Sasha found a spot behind a tree across from Medford’s house to wait until Drew arrived while Michael and Damien drove off in the SUV toward Cassidy’s home.

They arrived just a few minutes later and removed their Kevlar vests, leaving the shotgun and taser in the car as well, so as to not scare Cassidy, two armed men showing up on her doorstep.

In contrast to her brother’s neighborhood, Cassidy lived on a neat and tidy street, her two-story home well-maintained. Michael knocked on the red front door and it opened a moment later to reveal a petite young woman with long blond hair and the same brown eyes as Medford.

She gave them a cautious smile. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Cassidy Medford?” Michael asked.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“My name is Michael Stonebridge. This is my partner, Damien, and we’re with a company called Sentinel Security.” He presented her with his business card. “We’re urgently looking for your brother, Paul, in relation to an incident that happened last night.”

Cassidy’s face fell. “What happened now?”

“May we come in?” Damien asked.

Cassidy stepped aside. “Yes, of course.”

She closed the door behind them and led them to her comfortable living room, indicating they should sit on the couch while she took the high-back chair across from them.

“What’s Paul done?” she asked wearily.

“He’s kidnapped a young boy,” Damien said.

Cassidy’s eyes widened in shock and her mouth dropped open. “ _What?_ ”

Michael and Damien took turns quickly relating the story and Cassidy listened, aghast, shaking her head in disbelief when shown the photo of Christian in his Navy costume, at his resemblance to Robert.

Visibly upset, Cassidy took a moment to process everything before finally speaking to Michael and Damien.

“It’s true my brother hasn’t been well for a while. Especially this last year. But to do this…” she trailed off. “He’s been seeing a psychiatrist through the VA. He’s supposed to be on several medications but he takes them for a short time then stops. He’s so much better when he’s on them but he said he hates the way it makes him feel.”

She reached for a framed picture on the side table beside her. She held it out to Damien and Michael. It showed a smiling group photo of Cassidy, Paul, Robert and young Steven.

There were tears in Cassidy’s eyes when she spoke. “The things Paul saw and did as a SEAL… It damaged him. He came back from each deployment worse, mentally. He was seeing ‘the enemy’ everywhere. Hallucinations. He started getting paranoid, violent, losing his temper for no reason.” A tear broke free. “Robert tried _so_ hard. He loved Paul dearly. But when Paul lashed out and hit him the first time…that was all Robert could take. He was afraid for Steven. So he filed for divorce and received full custody.” She shook her head sadly. “Then the accident happened. Losing Steven destroyed Paul. He was convinced Steven would be alive if Robert hadn’t taken him from him. He lost everything he loved—his family, his career…” Her expression was anguished. “But to do this…to kidnap a little boy… My brother is not a bad person. He’s sick.”

Damien nodded sympathetically. “We know. We don’t want any harm to come to him or to Stevie. But we need to find them.”

“We’ve already been to his home and they’re not there,” Michael said. “Is there anywhere you can think of he would take Stevie?”

Cassidy wiped at her tears and cleared her throat. “The only place I can think of is our mother’s family cabin, here in Virginia. We used to go there all the time as kids and I know Paul sometimes goes there when things here get too loud for him and he needs the silence.” She went over to a small desk in the corner and brought back a pad of paper and a pen. She wrote for a minute and handed the paper to Damien. “Here are the directions to get out there. It’s pretty isolated.”

Damien had an idea. “Does he have a cell phone?”

Cassidy nodded and Damien turned to Michael. “Let’s have her call him, see if she can get him to say where he is and have Quinn trace the call to confirm. And even if he doesn’t answer, we should still be able to get a ping from the closest cell tower.”

“Brilliant,” Michael answered and got on his phone to relay the information to Quinn as Cassidy gave them both Paul’s number.

Michael nodded a minute later. “Quinn’s set. Give him a call, Cassidy.”

Cassidy took a long breath and dialed her brother’s number. But she shook her head after several rings, the voicemail picking up instead of Paul.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“It’s okay,” Damien replied. “Since it rang first and didn’t go directly to voicemail we know his phone is on. We may still have gotten something.”

“Copy that,” Michael said and ended the call with Quinn. “We got a ping. Quinn’s sending me the coordinates so we can compare them to where the cabin’s located.” Michael’s phone signaled an incoming message a second later. He held out the phone for Cassidy to see which showed a map, the cell tower highlighted. “Is this near your cabin?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “That’s only about two miles from the cabin.”

Michael and Damien rose from the couch as one and Cassidy stood as well.

“Thank you, Cassidy,” Damien replied sincerely. “We’ll do everything we can to make sure Paul isn’t hurt.”

“Please bring him home,” she said brokenly. “And that little boy.”

Until speaking with Cassidy, Damien felt only anger toward Paul Medford. Now he understood the devastating loss that had torn his life apart and the debilitating PTSD the former SEAL was suffering from. And how easily either he or Michael could have broken with all that they had seen and done as soldiers as well.

So Damien made his second vow that day. “I will.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Now that they had confirmation of Medford’s location, the team regrouped at Christian’s house to plan their next course of action. And Christian had very strong opinions about it.

“Let _me_ talk to Paul,” he pleaded with Damien. “He thinks I’m Robert? Fine! I’m an actor! I can be anyone he wants me to be!”

But Damien shook his head. “I know you want to do everything you can to get Stevie back, but this isn’t it.”

“Medford blames Robert for taking Steven away from him,” Michael chimed in. “Pretending to be Robert would just make it worse.”

Christian blew out a frustrated breath and turned to Quinn. “You’re still taking me with to the cabin.” Quinn started to shake his head but Christian ran right over him. “I will _not_ sit here now that I know where Stevie is. I swear to God I’ll drive out there myself!”

Quinn held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. But you will _not_ leave the SUV. Do I make myself clear?”

Christian settled down. “Yes. Perfectly. Thank you.”

A plan had begun to form in Damien’s head when Christian mentioned being an actor. He took a step toward him. “I think there’s a way you can help us. But you’ll have to make a few phone calls…”


	16. Chapter 16

It was early evening before everything finally fell into place and the team arrived in the Virginia woods, ready to begin the rescue mission. Before leaving Christian’s house, Drew had pulled up satellite images of the cabin and the surrounding area. There were two other cabins in the area, but both were a few miles from Medford’s. The team agreed to park at the top of the gravel driveway, with both SUV’s blocking the road, to hopefully prevent Medford from escaping if it came to that. Then they would covertly approach the cabin on foot, using the element of surprise to peacefully capture Medford and rescue Stevie. But Damien knew all about “best laid plans”. They rarely survived engagement with the enemy. How many times had he and Michael improvised on the fly? Here’s hoping this wouldn’t be another one.

Michael pulled the SUV to a stop at the top of the driveway and Damien hopped out, along with Drew and Sasha. Thanks to Christian, all four of them were dressed in Naval combat uniforms, courtesy of the _High Tide_ costume department. But with real Kevlar vests. Damien, Sasha and Drew were armed with tasers, and Michael again had the shotgun with the beanbag rounds. Damien truly hoped he’d made the right call by insisting they not use actual sidearms.

The second SUV with Quinn and Christian parked parallel, blocking the driveway. Quinn lowered his window. “Give me a comms check.”

They all tested their earpieces, which Quinn and Christian were also wearing, to monitor the team from the SUV.

Quinn nodded in satisfaction. “You all know the mission objective. I want _everyone_ back here safe.”

“Copy that,” Damien answered for the team, then caught Christian’s worried gaze. “We’ll bring him back to you.”

Damien turned to his team, everyone’s gazes steady and sure and confident. They were ready.

He held up a closed hand. “Let’s do this.”

They all knocked fists and Damien immediately felt another surge of adrenaline flood through his system, stronger than earlier today. And one look at his partner told him Michael was ramped up, too. They loved this. The action. It was in their blood. They would always be Bravo One and Two.

Michael gave him a firm clap on his shoulder. “Lead on, mate.”

And Damien did.

All of his senses on high alert, he crept through the quiet woods, his team close by. The dry, fallen leaves made complete stealth impossible but they did well to mask their movements as much as possible.

Damien could just make out the outline of the cabin through the trees ahead of him when it happened. When their best laid plans went up in smoke. Literally.

It was only thanks to the utter quiet around him that he heard the telltale _click_ of a tripwire engaging as he took another cautious step forward.

Booby-trap. Medford had fucking _booby-trapped_ the area. Yeah, Damien hadn’t seen that one coming.

Years of training, experience and muscle memory kicked in and Damien threw himself backwards, barreling into Michael, knocking them both to the ground as the grenade exploded. Damien felt the shrapnel spray against the back of his vest and legs. The stinging pain in his thighs and calves was nothing compared to what it could’ve been.

“Bloody hell!”

“Damien! Damien!”

“Is he hurt?”

There were hands on him, carefully rolling him over, the worried faces of Michael, Sasha and Drew looking down on him.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he reassured them, getting to his feet, his ears still ringing from the blast. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, shaking his head.

_“Sit-rep! Now!”_

Quinn’s forceful voice came over the comms. He’d clearly heard the explosion.

“We’re good, boss,” Drew answered immediately. “We discovered Medford’s got the woods booby-trapped.”

“Yeah, didn’t see that one coming,” Damien muttered.

Michael frowned. “So much for the element of surprise.”

Damien remained silent, his mind working. Time to adapt, like he and Michael always did. They needed to salvage this mission and he thought he knew how they could do it.

“That’s okay. I can work with this. Everyone listen up…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien approached the front door of the cabin alone. He’d first gotten a look through the side window, where Michael was currently stationed with the shotgun. What he saw made his blood run cold. Medford had obviously heard the explosion as well and he stood in the center of the main room, holding a terrified Stevie up against him, tear tracks on the young boy’s face. But he looked otherwise unharmed. Medford’s head turned from side to side, his eyes wild, panicked, pointing a pistol at the front door. Everything was moments away from going south and Damien’s stomach churned in fear for Stevie.

_“Are you sure about this?” Michael had questioned him._

_“No,” Damien answered honestly, adjusting his uniform, making sure the Senior Chief’s insignia were clearly visible, a rank above what Medford used to be. “But it’s all we’ve got.”_

_Michael’s voice was tight. “If Stevie calls out your name as soon as he sees you, it’s all over.”_

_“I know. It’s a chance I’ve got to take. Look at Medford, Mike. He’s ready to snap. We’re out of time. You know the signal.”_

_“Just be careful, Damien. Please.”_

_Damien tried for a reassuring grin. “I’ve got nothing to worry about. I know you’ve got my back. Like always.”_

Damien took a long breath and refocused himself, preparing to make contact with Medford. His taser was holstered at his hip. He needed to present as non-threatening as possible.

“Petty Officer Medford!” Damien called out through the closed front door, purposely deepening his voice, trying to disguise it from Stevie.

Being addressed by his rank obviously took Medford by surprise and there was a brief hesitation before he yelled back.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Senior Chief Barnes! You and your son are in danger!” Damien grasped the door handle. “I’m coming in so we can talk.”

“Slowly! And keep your hands up!”

Damien did as Medford said, easing the door open and stepping through, hands raised. His eyes barely flicked to Stevie, whose own eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open. But thankfully he didn’t call out Damien’s name, giving away that they knew each other. Damien had been counting on Stevie’s utter surprise at seeing Damien in full military uniform to throw him, just for a minute or two. So far it was working, but Damien needed to talk fast.

Medford dropped the gun from Damien’s direction to point it directly at Stevie’s head. “ _You are not taking my son!_ ” he screamed.

Damien took another cautious step forward, shaking his head. “I’m not here to take Steven,” he assured Medford. “I’m here to get you both to safety. My squad is right outside. You heard the explosion? Your position is compromised, Petty Officer.”

He hated playing into Medford’s delusions but it was the only option Damien had to end this peacefully.

A second explosion sounded out in the woods, right on cue, the other discovered booby-trap set off deliberately by Drew on Michael’s signal over comms.

“We have to move! Now! That’s an order, Petty Officer!” Damien commanded.

That phrase snapped Medford to attention, as Damien was hoping it would and he lowered the gun, tucking it into his waistband. “Yes, sir!”

Damien turned and led them to the door, his heart beating double time. He stepped outside, Medford and Stevie right behind him. As soon as they cleared the threshold, Damien spun and snatched Stevie up into his arms and quickly moved away as Michael and Sasha moved in from either side of the doorway, swiftly subduing an unsuspecting Paul Medford. He immediately began struggling and yelling for Stevie but Sasha and Michael held him back, zip-tying his hands behind his back as Drew arrived to assist in disarming the furious man.

Damien held Stevie close as he hurried them both away, down the gravel driveway. The young boy was shaking in his arms, crying, clinging to Damien.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he soothed him before activating his comms, speaking to Quinn and Christian. “Target is secure and we have retrieved the package. Repeat—we have retrieved the package.”

Damien only took a few more steps before the sound of the SUV quickly approaching reached his ears. He stopped where he was and set Stevie on his feet, going down to his knees in front of him. He wiped away the scared boy’s tears.

“It’s all over, little man. I’m gonna take you home.”

Stevie took several hiccupping breaths then leaned forward and hugged Damien fiercely around his neck, clearly still unable to speak in his shock and fright.

Damien felt tears prick his own eyes as he returned the hug just as the SUV pulled to a stop in front of them.

“Hey,” he rubbed Stevie’s back. “Look who’s here.”

Stevie lifted his head and turned and started crying again. “Dad!” He took off at a run and Christian met his son halfway, scooping him up and crushing him to him, tears falling from his eyes as well.

“Stevie! Oh, God, Stevie!”

Damien got to his feet and watched the reunion, a lump in his throat as Christian mouthed _“Thank you, thank you”_ to him as he held his son safe in his arms. Just like Damien had promised.

Michael walked up beside him then, curling a warm, comforting hand around the back of Damien’s neck, fingers rubbing gently.

He leaned in close, voice soft. “You did it, mate. You did it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was late by the time Damien and Michael returned to their apartment. The police had finally been called in to take custody of Paul Medford and the entire team had spent endless hours answering questions about what had transpired over the last two days. But it was all worth it to know Stevie was sleeping peacefully in his own bed, Christian sitting right beside him.

The adrenaline rush Damien had been functioning on for the entire day left him in a rush the minute he walked through the door and exhaustion washed over him in waves. Michael, too, and they sagged against one another for long minutes, eyes closed, arms entwined around one another until Damien felt himself falling asleep on his feet.

Michael turned his head and kissed Damien’s temple. “C’mon,” he said softly and led them both into the bathroom.

They practically held one another up in the shower, the soap and water stinging in the small cuts on the backs of Damien’s legs from the grenade shrapnel. They washed each other gently until the events of the day rinsed away down the drain and then fell into bed, tangled together, their skin still damp.

They kissed long and slow until their eyelids could no longer remain open, and Damien drifted off, his head on his partner’s chest, Michael’s steady heartbeat lulling him into a much needed restful sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien was dreaming.

He was sitting on a bench in a park in Ecuador. Of that he had no doubt. It was quiet. Peaceful. He was surrounded by lush green grass and tall trees. The sun was shining brightly overhead and a gentle breeze ruffled the leaves.

There was a child dressed in a school uniform walking away from him on the path.

Daniel.

As if he’d spoken the name out loud, the young boy looked over his shoulder at Damien, giving him a bright smile. He paused for the briefest second to give Damien a wave before running off into the light, laughing.

_Goodbye_ …

Damien woke with the word on his lips, a lump of emotion in his throat, his conscience blessedly clear.

“Hey.”

Damien blinked at his partner’s quiet voice, raising his gaze to see Michael watching him. He reached out and brushed a thumb across Damien’s cheek. “You look like a huge weight’s been lifted from you.”

Damien swallowed. “It has. Took more than seven years, but I was finally able to let him go.”

Michael’s smile was soft with understanding. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that.” He leaned in, his lips just brushing Damien’s.

It felt like it had been forever since they’d been together, and Michael’s kiss was the spark that ignited the flame inside Damien, his body responding instantly.

Michael lifted his head and eased back, but Damien tugged him close again as heat flushed through him. “C’mere,” he breathed.

His mouth covered Michael’s own, his tongue sweeping across his partner’s lower lip, asking for entrance, which Michael instantly gave. Their soft moans mingled in the morning light as their tongues danced sensuously together. Michael rolled on top of Damien, blanketing his body with his own, and Damien welcomed the warm, heavy weight—hard muscles and soft, smooth skin.

They kissed for long, long minutes, their mouths parting only to come back together again and again. Damien let himself drift, his mind calm and clear. There was only the here and now. Just he and Michael.

Their bodies rocked slowly against each other’s. Damien’s hands roamed over his partner’s broad, bare back, Michael’s skin warm under his fingertips. He hummed into the kiss, his hands drifting down to the swell of Michael’s ass as he felt himself harden. Michael’s cock, pressed tightly against his own, answered in kind.

Damien pulled in a long breath as Michael eased back from the kiss. His partner’s hazel eyes were filled with heat and a pleasant tremor ran through Damien in anticipation. Michael dipped his head again, his mouth kissing wetly behind Damien’s ear, down the side of his neck. Damien closed his eyes with a long sigh, one hand resting on the back of Michael’s head, his fingers playing in his partner’s hair.

Damien lay back and let Michael work his magic with his lips and tongue and fingers, working his way down Damien’s body. He paid close attention to Damien’s nipples, lapping at them with his tongue, sucking, his fingers tugging them into little peaks, shooting bolts of pleasure straight down to Damien’s cock, lying fully hard against his belly.

Inarticulate noises of encouragement fell from Damien’s lips as Michael continued his exploration that turned into a low moan as his partner turned his focus on Damien’s large tattoo. He shivered as Michael traced the intricate pattern with his fingertip, still amazed at his body’s sexual response. None of his other lovers had paid the least bit of attention to his ink, but Michael’s fascination with his tattoos had turned each area into an erotic zone that Damien now looked forward to being stimulated.

Michael’s tongue followed his fingers, raising goosebumps in its wake, Damien’s cock giving a throb in response, a pearl of clear fluid leaking from the slit. He watched as his partner trailed hot kisses away from the tattoo until his chin bumped against Damien’s erection. Michael looked up then, pinning Damien with a gaze still filled with desire before opening his mouth and taking Damien inside.

“Fuck…” Damien gasped, tossing his head back into the pillow as his cock was surrounded by the wet heat of Michael’s mouth, his hands bunching in the sheets.

He felt himself release another burst of precome as his partner began to suck, bobbing his head, taking Damien’s cock far back in his throat. Damien pulled in short breaths as Michael worked his cock, swallowing around it, swirling his tongue over the swollen head, pressing against the bundle of nerves beneath it.

He groaned as his balls throbbed and he tugged on Michael’s shoulder. His partner looked up, Damien’s cock still in his mouth.

Damien groaned again. “C’mere. Wanna taste you, too…”

Michael’s eyes flashed and he let Damien’s erection slip wetly from his mouth. He rose up and kissed Damien deeply, swiftly, before turning his body around, lying on his side. Damien wasted no time, easing the foreskin down on his partner’s rock hard cock, exposing the red, swollen head. He lapped at the clear fluid gathered there, moaning as Michael’s taste exploded across his tongue.

Then Michael’s groan mingled with his as they both took each other’s cocks into their mouths. Damien immediately fell into an erotic feedback loop—sucking and being sucked. He worked Michael’s erection with his mouth and hand, his cock hot and hard against his tongue. It wasn’t long before he felt lightheaded from the dual stimulation. His cock was leaking steadily now, Michael swallowing around it, groaning as Damien did the same to his.

His hips twitched, wanting to thrust, wanting to spill down Michael’s throat as he felt the first stirrings of his orgasm in his heavy balls. As if sensing his desire, Michael stilled his head and relaxed his throat. Damien gave a sharp groan, sucking hard on Michael’s cock as he fucked his partner’s mouth with short, shallow thrusts.

In moments Damien was forced to pull off of Michael’s cock, drawing in panting breaths as the urge to come started to overtake him.

“Oh fuck… Mike…Mike…”

But then the delicious, wet friction was gone, his climax denied as Michael pulled away, turning around again, covering Damien’s body with his own. His tongue plunged into Damien’s mouth and Damien arched up into him, rubbing his aching cock on Michael’s stomach, still looking for relief.

But Michael pulled away again, shaking his head, and Damien growled in frustration at his partner’s teasing.

“Not yet,” Michael breathed hard, clearly as aroused as Damien.

He shifted to the side, reaching out to the nightstand and came back with a familiar tube in his hand. He lifted Damien’s legs, bending them at the knee, spreading them wide, settling between them on his own knees. He paused there for a moment, spreading the lube, fisting and stroking his own cock, his heated gaze boring into Damien.

Damien’s mouth went dry, his cock throbbing at the sight. “Christ…” he breathed, lifting his hips, his body aching to be filled. “Now, Mike…please…”

Michael leaned forward over Damien, claiming his mouth for a sensual kiss as the blunt head of his cock pressed against the small puckered muscle of Damien’s entrance. He swallowed down Damien’s low moan as he pushed forward, breaching him ever so slowly, and Damien felt every single long, thick inch of him until he was completely filled.

Michael paused then, lifting his head slightly, his breath mingling with Damien’s, a riot of emotions on his face that made Damien’s heart skip a beat. His partner smiled down at him tenderly.

“I love you.”

Damien’s chest constricted and he answered Michael with a kiss that left no doubt he felt the same as their bodies began to move together. Damien once again gave himself over to his partner, unable to stop the sounds he made as Michael’s hard cock stretched him, filled him, moved so deep inside him again and again.

He wrapped his legs around Michael’s waist, his hands clutching at Michael’s back, his arousal spiking. “So fucking good…you feel so fucking good…”

Michael kissed him hard. “Can’t get enough of you,” he panted, hips thrusting. “Can never get enough of you…”

Damien cried out as Michael’s cock found his secret spot, a shudder running through him as once again his orgasm threatened to overtake him. Michael’s hips stuttered then, his cock driving deep.

“God, yeah, Mike, let me feel you…” he encouraged, ready to let go the second Michael spilled inside him.

Michael moaned as his control began to slip. “Don’t come,” he ground out. “Want you in me…”

“Oh _fuck_ …” Damien cursed, arousal rolling through him, grabbing hard at the base of his cock, trying to hold off yet one more time. Which nearly became impossible as Michael climaxed with a shout, his cock swelling inside Damien, filling him with the slick, wet heat of his release. The sensation was erotic and Damien’s breath stuttered at the intimacy. He could never get enough of Michael, either.

He held his partner close and rolled them over, still joined, kissing Michael with pent-up hunger until they both parted for breath. Damien sat up and reached for the discarded tube, coating his fingers in the clear fluid. With a hissing breath he slicked his cock, so hard it was nearly painful to touch, having been taken to the edge multiple times and denied his release.

Michael was still hard inside him and they both groaned as Damien rose up inch by inch and let his partner’s cock slip slowly from him. Damien’s body was on fire, arousal surging through him. He needed to be inside Michael. Now.

His partner was breathing deeply, his face still flushed from his orgasm, lingering heat in his eyes as he spread his legs, lifting them up to Damien’s shoulders, opening himself wide.

“Need you…” Michael whispered hoarsely.

Damien could wait no longer, his self-control at its breaking point. He pressed the swollen head of his slick cock against Michael’s entrance and pushed. His sharp moan echoed in the room as he slid in until his groin was flush against Michael’s ass, his partner arching up under him, his mouth falling open as Damien filled him.

Michael’s body gripped him in tight heat, stretching around his cock and Damien’s heavy balls throbbed at the sensation. He bent forward, spreading Michael open even further and thrust.

“Oh fuck, Damien… _more_ …” Michael pleaded gruffly.

Damien rolled his hips, his cock plunging in long and slow and deep, again and again, trying to get impossibly closer to Michael, not knowing where he ended and his partner began.

It was never going to last, having staved off his orgasm for far too long, and minutes later Damien’s body was vibrating with the need to come. And this time nothing was going to stop him. He felt the rush building at the base of his spine and low in his belly, building, building until the wave crashed over him and swept him away.

He cried out Michael’s name as he came, his cock surging, pulsing inside his partner over and over. The intensity took his breath away, his heart pounding as he spilled himself deep within Michael for long moments.

His partner lowered his legs and drew Damien down into an embrace, holding him close until his breathing calmed and he settled. Utterly content, Damien smiled softly against Michael’s skin.

“Love you,” he murmured, letting his eyes drift closed as Michael placed a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Here in Michael’s arms was perfect. Everything was perfect. Things were finally falling into place for them. He didn’t think he could ask for anything more.


	17. Chapter 17

Over the next week life slowly went back to normal.

Michael and Damien either talked to, or saw, Christian and Stevie on a daily basis. Stevie was seeing a child psychiatrist to help him process his ordeal and he was making good progress describing what happened and his feelings and fears. With a little time and a lot of love, he would be just fine. Christian had invited Michael, Damien and Finn for Thanksgiving dinner, which they were very much looking forward to.

Despite the police urgings, Christian declined to press charges against Paul Medford. So instead of being behind bars, he was now in a psychiatric facility finally getting the help he needed. Michael truly felt for the broken soldier. He’d lost everything, including himself. Cassidy promised to keep Michael and Damien updated on his progress and was extremely grateful they’d brought her brother in unharmed.

Michael hadn’t noticed the night they rescued Stevie, but he hadn’t been wearing the pajamas he’d been abducted in. Instead he was wearing new, clean clothes. A thorough inspection of the cabin later that night revealed a kitchen stocked with food and one of the bedrooms was made up for a young boy, complete with games and toys. There was even a child’s bicycle outside. Medford never had any intention of harming Stevie, who he truly believed was his son.

A month went by, with Michael and Damien both working assignments for Sentinel Security, taking a break for five days when Finn came to visit for Thanksgiving. The more time Michael spent with he and Damien, the more they truly felt like a family.

A feeling of finally being settled washed over Michael as the days and weeks went by and he knew Damien felt the same.

And then one evening, Michael’s phone rang…

He never answered calls from numbers he didn’t know, but when he saw the area code was from London, a sixth sense told him to pick up.

“Hello?”

_“Michael Stonebridge?”_ asked a deep, distinctly British male voice.

“Who is this?” Michael answered with his own question, and the tone of his voice made Damien, sitting next to him on the couch, turn to look at him, brow furrowed.

_“My name is Sebastian Fulbright,”_ the man replied. _“I was a very good friend of Philip Locke’s.”_

Michael sat up straighter at the mention of their former commanding officer’s name and switched the phone over to speaker so Damien could hear as well.

“You knew Locke?”

_“Yes. We were mates at university. Went on to join the military together. Stayed fast friends until his death.”_

Having no way to verify what Fulbright was saying at the moment, Michael could only take him at his word.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Fulbright?”

_“I’m glad you asked that, Sergeant Stonebridge. You see, I’m Charles Ridley’s replacement.”_

Michael and Damien exchanged surprised looks at the unexpected statement as the hairs on the back of Michael’s neck stood up.

_“I’d like to offer you and Sergeant Scott a job.”_

Before Michael could lie and refute Fulbright’s claim, the man continued.

_“Yes, I know that he’s alive. And that you’re both working personal protection in Washington D.C. Thanks to Scott’s heroics at the Planned Parenthood clinic that was all over the internet.”_ He paused. _“Philip would be glad to know that you both survived. And avenged his death.”_

Michael heard the sincerity in his words but his jaw still tightened. “If you know anything about us, and about Locke’s death, then you should know we will never work for the British military again.”

_“I don’t blame you for saying that. Not after the losses you suffered. I’m not shedding a tear that Ridley is dead. And I know neither are you.”_

There was a weighted silence as Michael and Damien locked gazes again, clearly reading between the lines of what Fulbright had just said. He either knew Michael had killed Ridley or he highly suspected it.

Michael decided to not even acknowledge it as a feeling of unease flowed through him. He was done with this conversation.

“I don’t think you heard me, Mr. Fulbright. We’re done—“

_“You wouldn’t be working directly for Whitehall,”_ Fulbright interrupted him. _“You’d be working for me as independent contractors. I need men of your skills for…sensitive assignments. Your talents are wasted as glorified bodyguards and you know it. You need the action of special ops.”_

Michael found he couldn’t deny the truth in his words. He hadn’t felt more alive in months than when they were on mission, searching for Stevie.

_“At least meet with me to discuss. No need to come to London. I’m here in D.C. for the next week. Hear my offer, then think it over.”_

Michael looked at Damien. He’d do whatever his partner wanted. They made decisions together now. He could see the conflict in Damien’s blue eyes as he gave Michael a small nod.

Michael’s eyebrows rose at Damien’s response as he addressed Fulbright. “I’ll talk to Scott and get back to you.”

_“Cheers. That’s all I ask.”_

Michael ended the call and looked back up at his partner. “Damien—“ he began but Damien held up a hand and stood up.

As he made his way to the kitchen, Michael’s gaze drifted over to the brightly lit Christmas tree in the corner. Finn had been dumbfounded when he visited for Thanksgiving that the two of them didn’t have a tree. Damien said he hadn’t had one since he was Finn’s age, and Michael vaguely remembered Kerry putting one up in the early years of their marriage. But then he was usually deployed every holiday. Well, Finn was having none of that and practically dragged the two of them out to get a tree, plus lights and decorations. Then he helped them put it all together. He even got the three of them stockings with their names that were currently hanging above the fireplace.

Michael sighed. Things were good. He and Damien had each other. They had Finn. They had a good, steady job and friends. So why hadn’t he hung up on Fulbright? Why hadn’t Damien told him to?

His partner reappeared then, beers in hand. He gave one to Michael as he sat back down on the couch. They both took a long drink before Michael began again.

“I think we need to talk.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Michael took another drink. “We were so focused on finding Stevie that we never really talked about what we were both feeling during all of that.”

Damien nodded slowly. “It felt…right. Bravo One and Two. Working together again, part of a team, on mission. It felt like—“

“Twenty,” Michael finished for him. “I kept having feelings of déjà vu. Especially when we were all gathered at Christian’s house. It was like being back in the crib again. Like you said, you and me—it felt right. I’ve missed that,” he admitted, then tipped his head. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, knowing he was guilty of also keeping his thoughts to himself.

Damien shrugged and shook his head, glancing over at the Christmas tree. “I guess because things are working here. You and me and Finn. Sentinel. Christian and Stevie. What about you? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“The same,” Michael answered.

“So if things are good, why didn’t we tell Fulbright to go screw himself and his job offer right then and there?”

Michael was silent for a moment. “I think it’s because we didn’t get to end our careers on our own terms. Now we have that chance. Who knows, maybe we’ll do one job for Fulbright and decide we’re well and truly done and can walk away with no regrets. Or maybe we keep at it for another year or two. Either way, _we’re_ in control.”

Damien looked thoughtful. “We can talk to Quinn. See if we can make arrangements to be gone every so often. Because I don’t want to stop working for Sentinel.”

“Neither do I. We’re making a life here and I don’t want to lose that.”

“But you’re right. Special ops work, it’s in our blood. We’re not done with it yet.”

Michael nodded, already anticipating being back out in the field again. “We are soldiers, mate. Putting our lives on the line to save and protect other people is what we do.”

Damien gave him a cocky grin. “And we’re fucking good at it.”

“Cheers to that,” Michael laughed and they clinked bottles, taking another drink.

But then Damien’s expression grew serious and he laid a hand on Michael’s leg. “And starting a family?” he asked quietly.

Michael covered his partner’s hand with his own, linking their fingers together. “I still want that more than anything. And when we know we’re finished for good…then we buy a house with a white picket fence, get a dog and start that family.” He smiled. “And turn into those old men Locke thought we’d never become.”

Damien leaned in close, his answering smile as soft as his kiss. “I like that plan, Mikey.”

“We might be getting ahead of ourselves, though, with Fulbright,” Michael said. “We’re taking him at his word on everything. It’s time we did some research, make sure he is who he says he is.”

“Couldn’t agree more. No fucking way in hell are we taking the chance he turns out to be just like Ridley.”

“Copy that.”

Using their Sentinel computers in their home office, they worked late into the night doing a deep dive into Sebastian Fulbright. In the end, they verified what he had told them was true. Especially his relationship with Locke. They did indeed have a long history stretching back to their days in university. They came up through the ranks together in the military and Fulbright was just as decorated a soldier as Locke. They found several photos of the two of them together both from school and the military. While Locke preferred to remain working in the field, Fulbright shifted his focus more toward the political side, which is how he ended up currently working in Whitehall and became Ridley’s replacement. There was nothing suggesting he was anything other than on the up and up with his job offer.

“Well,” Michael sat back in his chair. “We’ve got nothing to lose by talking to him.”

Damien nodded. “Make the call.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They met Sebastian Fulbright the next afternoon for lunch at an upscale restaurant in the heart of D.C. Damien hadn’t slept much the night before, his mind racing with the possibility of getting back into the game again. He was glad he and Michael had talked. And that they’d both been on the same page—they hadn’t yet gotten their old lives out of their systems yet. Because it hadn’t been their choice to leave it behind. Like Michael said, maybe working just one job for Fulbright would give them the closure they needed. Or for them to realize they needed to scratch that itch for a bit longer. They needed to find out one way or the other. Together.

Fulbright was waiting for them at a table in front of the window with a panoramic view of the city. Damien gave him the once-over as he and Michael approached.

The man was in his early 50’s, fit and trim with short, dark hair that was graying at the temples. Even though he was no longer serving directly in the military, he still had that military air about him. Where Locke had been rough around the edges, Fulbright was a bit more polished. His brown eyes were sharp behind his wire-rimmed glasses. He gave them a warm, friendly smile as they sat down.

“Sergeant Scott, Sergeant Stonebridge,” he greeted them with a firm handshake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

A waiter appeared then with glasses of water and menus, placing everything on the table. Fulbright waited until he departed before continuing.

“Since you’re here I take it you’ve done your due diligence on me.”

“We always go into a situation well-prepared,” Damien replied, wariness in his tone, still feeling out Fulbright.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Fulbright smiled. “Philip spoke highly of you both. Often. He had the utmost respect for you.”

Damien nodded. “Yeah, well, it went both ways.”

“He was an outstanding commanding officer,” Michael added. “And a good man.”

“Who didn’t deserve to die the way he did,” Fulbright said, both anger and sadness in his words and Damien started to warm to him.

“Despite you being seriously injured, you brought Philip home. I want to thank you for that.”

Michael nodded as memories of retrieving Locke’s body in the forest rushed through Damien.

“We don’t leave anyone behind,” Michael said quietly.

“He’s buried next to his son,” Fulbright said. “I hope it finally brings him peace, being with him again.”

Damien cocked his head. “How much do you know about his son’s death?”

“Everything,” Fulbright replied. “It nearly destroyed Philip. He never really was the same after that. He became obsessed with finding the man who did it. He was convinced it was Oppenheimer. But he could never find him.”

Damien and Michael exchanged glances and Damien gave him a small nod.

“He found him,” Michael told Fulbright. “Not long before he died.”

Fulbright’s eyes widened. “And was it indeed him who set the car bomb?”

“It was,” Damien confirmed.

“And is the man still breathing?” Fulbright asked evenly.

“No. He is not,” Michael replied.

“Good. After the pain he caused Philip… I’m glad he was able to exact justice for his son after all those years. Now I know he’s at peace.” Fulbright turned to look out the window. “Though if I had the information then that I have now, perhaps my friend would still be alive.”

Before Damien or Michael could question him, Fulbright turned back to them. “I always knew there was corruption in Whitehall. I just had no idea how high up it ran until Ridley was killed.”

Fulbright’s gaze shifted to Michael, but his partner’s expression was utterly impassive as he stared back at the man, giving nothing away of his part in Ridley’s death.

“Couldn’t have happened to a better man,” Damien commented dryly.

Fulbright cocked an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth quirked. “Indeed.” He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table. “Not only was the man’s reputation discredited, having been killed in front of his mistress’s home, but his death kicked over a hornet’s nest.”

Damien and Michael exchanged another glance. After Michael returned from London, they had completely put Ridley out of their minds. He hadn’t deserved one more single thought from them. But apparently they’d missed something.

“What do you mean?” Michael asked.

“I was part of the investigative team that tore his life apart,” Fulbright explained. “The arrogant bastard actually kept _proof_ of his corruption.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Damien said.

“Absolutely, Sergeant Scott. We know of his dealings with North Korea regarding Li-Na, his involvement with Stillwater and how it lead to both Julia Richmond and Philip Locke’s deaths.”

Damien sat back, digesting the unexpected news, the look on Michael’s face equally shocked. It was beyond what Michael had ever intended with his actions.

“Ridley’s corruption goes back a decade,” Fulbright went on. “And he wasn’t the only bad apple in Whitehall. Thanks to the evidence we found, I helped clean house. Which is why I was installed as Ridley’s replacement.” He leaned back. “Whomever dispatched with Sir Charles Ridley did British Military Intelligence a huge favor. I can start with a clean slate. And I intend to keep it that way.”

Damien was impressed with Fulbright. He no longer had any qualms about going to work for the man. He was actually looking forward to it. Locke would be proud of his friend.

“We have no doubt that you will,” Michael replied sincerely.

“Good. Because that’s where you two come in,” Fulbright replied. “I know the value of covert ops soldiers like yourselves. Which is why I kept tabs on you, Michael, after Switzerland. At first it was out of respect for Philip. I knew how much you meant to him and I was concerned about your well-being in the aftermath. Losing your team…losing Scott. I just wanted to make sure you were going to land on your feet. I thought Philip would want to know you were all right.”

Damien flicked a sideways glance at Michael, saw his partner starting to warm to Fulbright as well.

“But then you did something curious and relocated to the States,” Fulbright continued. “To me, that could only mean one thing—that Damien Scott was still alive. But you kept yourselves well-hidden. Bravo for that.” He smiled. “But then again, I’d expect nothing less from highly trained operatives like yourselves. And then months later Ridley is killed and not long after a facial recognition alert I set up on both of you paid off.” He looked at Damien. “There you were, Scott, in living color at the Planned Parenthood protest. I was glad to have my suspicions confirmed, that you were indeed alive. And that you were both together.” He paused. “Philip would be happy to hear that. And I was happy to let you live your lives. Until I was offered Ridley’s position.” He leaned forward again. “I’ve read every mission report going back to Project Dawn. I know what you two can accomplish and it’s beyond impressive. You’re too good to be sitting on the sidelines in retirement. Which is why I want you working for me.”

Damien nodded. “We’re listening.”

“Problem is, technically, you’re dead, Sergeant Scott and Sergeant Stonebridge was disavowed by the British government.”

“Impressive, Mikey,” he teased his partner.

Michael shot him a “fuck you” look then turned to Fulbright. “So how do we play this, then?”

“Off the books,” Fulbright replied. “I’ll be the only one who knows of your existence. There may be another Section 20 team in the future, I’m not sure. I might not have control over that. But you’ll be kept separate from that. I need two men I can absolutely trust, working in the shadows, if need be.” He gave them a long, steady look. “What do you say?”

Damien caught Michael’s eye, waiting for his decision. Whatever his partner wanted, he’d do. Michael gave him a small nod and a thrill of anticipation rippled through Damien.

“Okay, Fulbright, we’re in,” Damien said. “But we do this on _our_ terms. We’re not at your beck and call and we have the right to turn down a job.”

“Absolutely,” Fulbright agreed. “I have situations in Russia, Pakistan and South Africa that need attention. I’ll forward the files to you. Read everything and let me know which you’d like to tackle.”

Damien and Michael nodded. All areas they were familiar with. Good starting points for getting back in the game.

“Assuming all goes well, I’m monitoring another, more serious matter in Sao Paulo that might require your skills in a month or so.”

Damien’s eyebrows rose at the thought of a trip to the exotic destination. Perhaps they could combine work _and_ pleasure. He shot a sly grin and wink at Michael. “We’ve never been to Sau Paulo.”

Before his partner could roll his eyes at his obvious train of thought, Damien turned back to Fulbright.

“When do we get started?”

**THE END**

~*~*~*~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading! So what do YOU think Michael and Damien got up to in Sao Paulo, eh? :-) Let me hear from you! I’m entertaining ALL ideas for the sequel!

The title of this story is taken from the song “Soldiers” by Otherwise.

The first time I heard this all I could picture were Michael and Damien. Give a listen at the link below and tell me if you feel the same!

_It's time to strap our boots on_

_This is a perfect day to die_

_Wipe the blood out of our eyes_

_In this life there's no surrender_

_There's nothing left for us to do_

_Find the strength to see this through_

_We are the ones who will never be broken_

_With our final breath_

_We'll fight to the death_

_We are soldiers, we are soldiers_

_I stand here right beside you_

_Tonight we're fighting for our lives_

_Let me hear your battle cry_

_Your battle cry_

_We are the ones who will never be broken_

_With our final breath_

_We'll fight to the death_

_We are soldiers, we are soldiers_

_We stand shoulder to shoulder_

_You can't erase us, you'll just have to face us_

_We stand shoulder to shoulder_

_We are the ones who will never be broken_

_With our final breath_

_We'll fight to the death_

_We are soldiers, we are soldiers_

_We are the ones who will not go unspoken_

_No, we will not sleep_

_We are not sheep_

_We are soldiers, we are soldiers_

YouTube: <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p733z6aKwMA>


End file.
